Pets, Pt. II

Being friends with an ex comes with its own special baggage

Think I’m pretty much just feeding the mice at this point. They even keep eating all the poison bait I put out, with no effect.

Mouse1: Look, I like that he leaves us food on these shiny wood and metal plates. But, #$@#! That green stuff gave me a @#$@#! stomachache.
Mouse2: Why do you have to curse so much?
Mouse1: I’ve become inured to it as the expressive vocabulary of my society. It’s neither indicative of a belief nor of a value system.
Mouse2: (…)
Mouse1: (sighing, shaking head) I know, we totally gotta get outta this #$@#$@ joint.

May take one of No. 6’s cats. Besides the mouse issue, I miss having a pet that doesn’t swim in its own waste.

Unfortunately, my last conversation with her was decidedly unpleasant. While I like the thought of having a cat that I’m used to, I’m worried it’s gonna come with baggage.

No more baggage for this bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, Asian boy, thanx.

Plus, I’ve never had a little kitten before; that might be kinda cool.

But we’ll see.

Wonder how Harold’s gonna take it.

Location: PM yest., 26th Precinct, writing a check
Mood: still sick
Music: After all the b__s__ I’ve heard It’s refreshing
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