I actually regret ever telling anybody that I love cats and take in strays, because now I get all these felines dumped in front of my house. I guess I can understand it. I mean, if Joe Sixpack gave his girlfriend a cat and she absolutely fucking hated it, what's he going to do? He's going to bring it to Larry, the guy Channel Six called "the cat woman on steroids." And Larry's going to take it in. Anyway. Yesterday I found this one sitting outside my front door. It's a pretty nice fat cat, but sometimes when I walk in the house, I see it walking around in circles. And I swear to God its eyes are crossed. So I'm thinking it might have down syndrome or something. And it digs holes in the backyard and eats hamburgers and fries and is always taking dumps. Yeah. Like, the bad kind that stink up the whole house for hours. It takes like twenty of those a day. So I named him Ballmer. There's just... something about him that reminds me of Stevie B.
