Sock Dispatch

I used to have a separate blog called Mattress Police Dispatches where I would post short random thoughts. I stopped posting to it because I was running low on material, but now I'm finding my list of possible topics for my main blog cluttered with random ideas that can't possibly be stretched into a full post. As a result, lately I've been clumping three or four of these vaguely related notions into a single semi-coherent post. Perhaps you've noticed?

Now my idea list is starting to resemble my sock drawer just before laundry day. It's not that any of the socks are bad, per se. But what are you going to do with five socks, the only matching pair of which apparently once belonged to a guy named Noel who loved candy canes? I'll tell you what: You stitch them together to make a beautiful scarf that you wear boldly to distract people from the fungus factory you've got going in your sneakers. I now present to you the blogging equivalent of a sock-scarf:

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I think cats must use some kind of point system to determine where they sleep. Every location in a house is given a certain number of points, and they select the location that has the highest score. Points are given for warmth, comfort, etc. Other factors would include:

• Height: +1 point for each foot above the ground
• Is it a new location (new bookshelf, appliance box, etc.)? +5 points
• Is it a nice little bed that you specifically made up for the cat to sleep on? - 20 points

And then there's a random 50 points that the cat assigns at will just to screw with you.

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I hear that there's some tainted cat food out there that could be fatal to a cat that eats it. I almost bought some, but the guy at the pet food store said there's no guarantee.

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I had to fog our house for fleas the other day, thanks to our cats. On the label it says to make sure that any pets are out of the room before starting the fogger. I don't know; that sounds like a temporary solution to me.

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This reminds me of the time I locked my keys in my car. I had no money to pay a locksmith, and somebody suggested the police might be able to help. I called the police, but they said they couldn't help open the door unless there was a child trapped inside. "Damn," I said. "If only I had that kind of foresight."

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Please don't send letters about how terrible I am for hating children and animals. I'm not serious. In fact, I have an almost pathological inability to take anything seriously. It's like that saying, "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade." Actually, that's kind of a stupid saying. Unless you're planning on asking life if you can borrow a cup of sugar, you're still pretty much screwed.

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I do have a gift for seeing the bright side of any situation. The other day I was talking to my wife on the phone. She's a teacher, and she was telling me how she was going to leave right after school because she had a 101 degree temperature. "Ooh!" I said. "This is the perfect chance for you to give all your students F's. When they ask why, you can tell them you have a low grade fever."

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My wife and I often see things differently. Lately we've been planning the landscaping for our property. "I want some crepe mytle and bougainvillea," My wife says. "Oh, and I need a nice spot for my roses. Now where did you say the cypresses are going to be?"

"Over there," I said. "Behind center field."

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Well, that's seven fewer mismatched socks in the drawer. Now I just hope I find a nice new post in the laundry basket on Friday. The stupid cat will probably be sleeping on it -- unless it decides to sleep on humor-blogs.com again.