Question upon question

The essential question is, precisely which pheromones are in the shower gel you use that advertises “With Pheromones!!!1!”.
Most people will want a shower gel with human pheromones, and not, say, moth pheromones.
Or tiger pheromones.
Generally.
This morning I woke up at 2am and couldn’t fall back to sleep for a long time. Hours.
At 4:20 I woke up to my wife opening the window and making a big deal about how much it had snowed at night.
I fed the cats. I got dressed. I gave my wife a cup of coffee and went outside and shoveled snow.
I went back inside, took a shower, ate breakfast at some point, had a cup of coffee, got re-dressed, shoveled more snow, went to work.
At the train station my long underwear relaxed and slid down and gathered around the low-water mark of my ass which is uncomfortable and I went into the restroom and hiked it back up and since then so far so good.
I dunno, did the cold weather paralyze the elastic? Am I getting a teeny old-man ass? Do I need a booty workout? The long johns are new, I got them for Xmas.
Question upon question.

On my daughter, and the WikiLeaks guy

Yesterday it snowed generously here in Austria, and I got a call from my wife at lunch telling me that Beta had wrecked her car between Vienna and Town X and I should go to her. There are several ways to get there and I asked where she was precisely and my wife was unable to tell me. So I called Beta and she was unable to tell me, too. So I went one way and drove back the other and didn’t see Beta anywhere because she’d gotten the car, which is said to look like an accordion now, started and driven back to her place.

So I went back to work, richer by one hairy snow driving experience, but worried about the kid, who was said to be fine although car totaled. Later that evening she went to the hospital to have pains looked into. They turned out to be various contusions. The one on her nose was not from the accident, it was from slipping on snow in front of the hospital and falling on her nose. That reminds me I still have to apologize to her for giving her the slapstick gene. Just this weekend she dropped her cell phone in the crapper, chip off the old block.

She told me she spun on the snow and hit a guardrail and wrecked the car. Turns out she came to a stop pointing the wrong way on a freeway. Yikes. She’s always been exceptional. She even has awesome snow mishaps.

I’m trying to get her to come home with me tonight but I think she has other plans.

Fucking snow, man.

Also, Julian Assange, what does one think about him? Crusading hero or Bond villain? Depends who you ask, I guess. I’d be growing a beard if I were him, getting some plastic surgery, putting on weight.

All that stuff. Actually, I’m putting on weight anyway, even though I’m not him, it’s winter.

It snowed just now

I stood out on the sidewalk watching it, using a sewing machine as an umbrella. Wearing my bowler hat. An umbrella wearing a bowler hat is absurd. The cat had a worm. Possibly more than one, so I took her and her brother to the vet for a pill each. And to make an appt to have her sterilized. They shaved her belly and did an ultrasound to see if she is pregnant, because she refused to pee on the little paper stick.

There I stood, looking at that familiar ultrasound monitor image, trying to think of a good joke, none coming. How will I explain it to my wife if one looks like me, like that. And all the while, big flakes of fallout drifting to earth out the window. Apocalyptic humor.

Freshly-shaved cat belly is a soft thing.

We’ve been looking for the leopard slug, or whatever it was, unsuccessfully. It’s out there, somewhere. It’s a feeling like when the jungle drums stop, you know? That slug is out there.

I hear they come from Spain. Climate change. They come from Spain, like these butterflies a friend found on her oleander come from Greece. Like the butterflies, only way more slowly.

Except, it didn’t snow.