Tonight at work, there was a cockroach that was two inches long.

On my walk home, there were two cars labeled CORONER, a guy with a camera, and a reporter.

At home, there was my kitten shut in the linen closet.




Oops. :/

ETA: http://www.knbc.com/news/13478833/detail.html

My apartment manager Bill came to my door tonight to tell me that Nick, my two-doors-down neighbor, had passed away from a stroke on Monday night.

Death is not something I wish on anyone, of course, but the man was eighty years old and had had a full life... and he creeped the shit out of me. The last time I saw Nick, he was yelling into my apartment and saying, "The Jeep! The Jeep! They're gonna give you a ticket! He's sitting right out -- the Jeep!" So I moved my car and I didn't get a ticket. That was perhaps the first time I was grateful to Nick.

The kind of fortuitous... but sad, but kind of fortuitous... but still I-feel-bad-kind-of sad thing about this event is that I've inherited a parking spot... and since I fly out of town on Saturday, it's going to save me at least seventy dollars in parking costs. Bill is going to move my car there once Nick's family takes his (boat of a) vehicle away.

Rest in peace, Nick. Ya creepy bastard.


(Sidenote: This is perhaps the highest icon-to-post relevance I have ever observed.)

ARE. YOU. FUCKING. KIDDING ME.

How is it that we have designed -- allowed, ENCOURAGED -- a legal system so convoluted and a social rationale so... ugh, so antipodean that we deign "Innocent!" a man bent on explaining, exploiting, and revelling in his guilt?! And then further, we -- creators of the system that facilitated such a ridiculous chain of events -- do not hang our heads in attrition, do not overhaul our failure-bound processes, do not even have the (however pansy-ass) moral conscience to at the very fucking least be inactive and ignore the results of our atrocious logic. No.

We give the bastard money so he'll talk. We then LISTEN. We buy his book and we make television ratings soar and wearesoFUCKEDUPARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH.

God damn it all to hell.

Shame on us. Shame on that jury. Shame on his bodyguards.

And she's gone.


(ETA: As of Sunday night -- exactly one year and one month after her daughter's funeral.)