Rick and I own at least two socialized cats. Also care for a few other feral and semi-ferals that we trapped and rescued to give a good life to, indoors.

The ferals are complete assholes, and don't allow us any social contact. Wrangling them for vet appointments is a carefully choreographed routine that Rick and I have developed, which basically involves herding them into one room, closing the door, and then find a way to drop a towel on them so they chill out enough for me to to scruff and carry the little fuckers into the carriers.

Also, I am officially numb to the Bitcorn prices. Stopped myself at 5 beers today before I recognized I just wasn't enjoying 'em. Trying to motivate myself to finish editing a project I've been working on for the last couple months, and just ended up with a headache.

Fuck 2018, man. What a shit year.