Tuesday, August 20, 2002

CD: Medeski Martin & Wood, "Uninvisible"

There are primal instincts that all mankind must succumb to at one time or another. Perhaps it is the drive to perpetuate the species, or increase heartrate when threatened. Today, without thinking, I tried to protect my nads from getting stepped on by my cat. For whatever reason, I have a cat that loves stepping on my nads. I could be reading the newspaper, or sitting and eating, or lying down asleep. This cat (whose name is Billy, after Billy Corgan [not my decision] by the way) will somehow find an excuse to jump up to my lap area and then wander around. This results in a repeated number of passes over my reproductive organs whilst walking very, very deliberately. Then, after about the third pass, the cat starts pawing at the rocky "ground" as if attempting to achieve better footing. This will involve claws, but they are not very sharp or heavily utilized. I still fail to understand why the cat will walk on my nads but not my legs, shoulders, or torso when they are available to him. Always--without fail--straight for the nads.

Today I was lying down, and on my side. Therefore, there was no logically feasible way the cat COULD step on my nads, even if it WANTED to. But when the cat jumped on to the sofa, and near my waist, I instantly hinged my body so my knees ended up almost against my chest. I was awed by my sense of reflex, and then by my stupidity. More about Billy the Cat later, as he is the only cat I know of who is a recovering marijuana addict; like it sounds, it's a long story.

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