Mmm pie

Mmmmm just finished a piece of apple pie from the Thanksgiving feast. I think we usually end up bringing at least half a pie home, and this year was no exception. We have to bring the apple home though, because somebody *cough*Dave*cough* doesn’t like pumpkin.

I was going to go shopping with Nadia today, but we’re pushing it back to next Saturday. Crazy pregnant lady thought she could do two days of shopping in a row! (Remember Nadia, you told me I could call you that) But that’s OK, because I need to clean the apartment. They’re coming on Tuesday to inspect our heater, and I don’t want to get kicked out for being a fire hazard or something. We have to lock the cats up while they’re here, which will be oh so pleasant.

Speaking of the cats, Mojo’s newest thing is attacking the flower arrangement next to one of the speakers in the living room. It’s been a part of the decor since we found him, but he has apparently only just noticed it. He’s such a gem.

And Sugar was up my ass today begging for turkey. We made the mistake a couple years ago of giving her a little bit of our Christmas dinner, and ever since then she begs shamelessly for whatever meat you’re eating. She even gets excited over bacon before it’s even cooked! She’s funny though. She has to lick all the salt off before she’ll eat it, and today she licked it right off the little TV tray onto the floor. She got all crazy because it fell too close to my shoe and she didn’t think she could get to it. Didn’t think of going around to the other side I guess.

*BURN UPDATE* Beckett’s bartender’s band-aid took more skin. No more band-aids for me. Burn is still nice and red, with a lovely scab. Dave made me get something to put on it, so I got something called “Burn Stuff.” They also make “Cut Stuff.” The box says “Because burns aren’t cuts and cuts aren’t burns…” Marketing genius, I tell you. The box should also say “WARNING: Our ‘Stuff’ smells like ass.”

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