rubinville

Heya, folks, long time no write...

So my laptop basically exploded the other day causing me to have to buy a new one. Once again, thank god for no-APR credit cards. After the explosion of the first laptop, I freaked out because all my writing is on there from the past 7 years of being in "the biz". My freaking lasted only about 3 hours though because my roomate was able to retrieve my stuff though I think the porn is lost forever.

(Insert sobbing and crying here.)

One nice thing about retrieving these docuements was that I found a book that wrote a couple years back and then just abuptly ended because I couldn't think of an ending. Well, I'm working on it again now, with a goal of figuring out the ending by 2028.

Many people know about my hatred of cats. Someone asked me the other day to explain a little bit into why I hate these deranged, sick animals. While I think I'll save the full story for the book, I will tell you a little bit here. First off, I'm incredibly allergic to cats and suddenly can't breathe when they are around, which is compounded my itchy and watery eyes that render me almost blind. Since braeathing and seeing are two of my favorite senses, this is not a good combination.

A couple years back my grandma decided that she wanted a cat despite the fact that most of my family is allergic to them. Hmm, maybe it was a not-so-subtle hint, now that I think of it. Anyway, despite my allergies I went to the ASPCA with her several times to find a cat. Foolishly I even went into the cat room itself which is basically wall to wall with cages of dozens of cats, all pissing, hissing and doing several other "ing's". During the visit to the cat room I had some sort of super human allergic episode and was in a constant vegetative state for almost a month after. My family tried to have my feeding tube removed but thank's to a federal government more than happy to overstep its boundaries the feeding tube remained and I survived.

A few weeks later I went to a very high-end pet store in NYC to find a cat since hey wouldn't allow me back into the ASPCA. My grandma spoke to a very nice guy at the pet store and seemed to find a cat she liked. She was playing with the cat and it was purring and seemingly have a good time when my grandma turned to the guy and said something I bet nobody has even heard their grandmother say before...

"Can you hold it up, so that I can see it's anus?"

Yup, that's what she said. I did a double-take. What in the hell was my grandma talking about? Why would she want to see the cats anus? And who wants to even hear their grandma saying anus? It was a disaster at every level. In any event, the man gladly showed her his anus, I mean the cats anus, and she purchased the cat.

Since then I can only sit on one chair at my grandmas apartment and if I breathe too heavily or move to fast I end up in a sneezing fit. My grandma refers to the cat as my aunt, as if it's her daughter, but the day I call a cat my aunt, well, that'll be the day I'm a monkey's uncle.

Which reminds me of a whole other story that I'll tell you another time.