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.
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.