This n that

The walking wounded is getting into the cat's meds again; I banged my toe two days ago resulting in an owie that is developing armies of white cells. Pus, kids. I found the remaining keflex from the vet, looked it up on the web and found it applicable for bacterial infections.

The coolest part is that the spectrum of this particular cephalosomethingorother was found growing as a fungus near a sewer in Sicily. Blow me down! Eat your mushrooms, darlings, and live long.

I have again changed hair color, leaning toward a warm iridescent light brown as compared to the deep red that has been the past year's statement. It won't stay brown for long, brown is so, well, pedestrian. I love the colors that I've seen the painted women wearing; the red orange yellow flamethrower tints just pop my pistons. Magenta. Aqua. Oh to be in my teens and twenties.

Personally, I am all for body art, you go and augment whatever you like, stick stuff under your skin to make a design, whatever floats your boat; thank god age has kicked in for me, or I would have been lizardtop zebrabottom girl. Even now, a giant red octopus on my back is ever so appealing, but nay. Other avenues call.

So far I am keeping up with a regime of increased fish oil, CLA, and calcium; so far, so good and energy is up. I can feel the vibes, keep sending them. Or is that my sore toe throbbing?

I tell you, last night I almost called every single one of you up to come over and Pound the rooty toot that lives downstairs. The man is a troglodyte with a vocabulary of one. He must work the second shift, I think the girlfriend left and he sure doesn't seem to miss her as he keeps bringing over buddies that yell "fuckin' A" as loud as he does. They begin at eleven p and were still yelling effin-ay at the video screen in the wee 3 a. NOOOOO, I DON'T BELIEVE IT, FUCKIN' AAAAAAAAAAA, as if each result shook the kingdom, bailed out the auto industry, changed water to wine, and cleared up my student loans.

Ah well, The Cake by the Lake doesn't like her fingers typing such drivel, but if little Mr. Stuff doesn't get a dictionary, maybe Santa will bring him one. Would he get the hint, do you think? I would be more forgiving if instead one heard LOVELY ROUND THAT WAS BY JOCULAR JOVE, which means effing-ay in English.

I am toddling off to bed with cat meds flowing through the veins, hurtling down the circulatory system to fight the bacteria in my toe. Maybe my toe will grow cat hair, and I will have a weretoe. I'll let you know if I find it digging through the litter box later.

Beddy bye, dream beyond belief.