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• photos •
• little loves • Eddie Cibrian's Dimples
Because c'mon! Shame on Invasion's slowburn peril for not providing them a more frequent showcase. Wentworth Miller
He's my boyfriend. He is. No, he just is. He's all green-eyed, widow's-peaked, melting-pot hotness and oiled-massage voice. He's it. • past loves • |
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Ah, virgin post. And, lo, the saga of the Kenmore mouse endeth before it's begun. Larabee spied him first yesterday, hanging out near the litter box. Silly mouse! She and Scooter tracked him all day -- less the fourteen or fifteen hours of sleeping -- and had him huddling under one of my new Docs (deep treads, ya see) at 7:08 a.m. They worked in tandem to corral the scrappy little guy, but Scooter got all grabby once he had him in his erstwhile hunter's jaws. Larabee and I looked on jealously while Scooter practiced his Catch and Release (Slow Torture) Program for Household Rodents, all the while growling at us onlookers. Finally -- behold the power of tuna! I opened a can for my two brave providers and Scoots dropped the mouse into his bowl before commencing to snarf. Drowning in tuna juice! Is there a less dignified way to go? I spirited the poor guy away into the trash. It was all very exciting. Larabee is now convinced mice live behind the litter box. She's staking it out. jlb | 14:31 |
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• the glow •
What stars? That's the glow, baby. • distractions •
Pale & Hairy in CA
Tomato Nation
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