Cute, huh? Yes, isn't it pretty to think so? The reality of the situation is different, far different. The reality is, if I were to approach to warm my cold, numb blogging fingers on that toasty warm sheepskin or that nice radiate-y radiator, I'd be placing myself in grave danger. Let alone that fuzzy wuzzy fur, which, like Maxwell's Demon, is designed by nature to absorb every heat molecule in the apartment, while excluding all the cold particles; and is jealously guarded by a creature that lives in, and can see in, the blackest void.
And, I found out (belatedly) that it's against the animal cruelty laws to turn off the heat. Dang that fascist/socialist Democrat(ic)(sic) Party nanny state!
So, it's off into the frigid gray December I go, to help hang the Open Press Small Print Show.
Won't you come down Friday, 6-9 PM, or any of the 3 following Saturday or Sundays 12-5 PM, to have a beer and give a Squishtoid a hug?
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