The Party

So Christmas is over for another year. Seems like just yesterday that I was unfriending people for starting Christmas countdowns in August. Stephanie is looking for one of her cats. Here’s a picture of one of her cats:

Mia

This isn’t the missing cat. This is Mia. I couldn’t get a picture of the other one because it’s, um, missing. But then, I’ve always felt that all cats are one cat and one picture of a cat is a picture of all cats. It has something to do with the eyes. Or maybe in the shadows they cast.

***

As I mentioned yesterday, Stephanie had a party last night and I was the entertainment. Everyone sat in uncomfortable chairs and guzzled martinis while I smoked strong French cigarettes and told socially insensitive jokes.

Every once in a while someone would yell, “Show us your staples!” and I would turn around, pull up my shirt  and show off my staples. Everyone pointed  and told staple jokes and yelled, “Merry Christmas, Biff!”

It was very strange.

But I didn’t run or sell pencils in the street, nude, so Stephanie didn’t kill me.

Always a good party when nobody kills you.

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