Saturday, September 07, 2002

CD: Remy Zero, "The Golden Hum"

Yesterday I came into the house to find the cat eating last night's casserole. Apparently no one fed the cat, or the cat was still hungry. Either way, the casserole from last night was left out uncovered for the cat to feast upon. I should have thrown it out right there, but after shooing the cat I put the rest on top of the fridge with the sign "Cat was eating the casserole."

My mother, who likes to keep a bucket of compost in the kitchen just a little to long as habit, responded. "Well I'm still going to eat it, I'm hungry!"

Today I came home and looked in the fridge. Day-old tomato soup. Browning salad. Hot dogs hardened by exposure to air. And a spider, sentry keeping watch over the Tomb of the Unknown Leftovers. I wasn't going to eat that crap anyway, but tonight I'm going to take a stand for sanitation. Something tells me I'm going to be much hungrier by the end of the week, or at least a much more efficient, single-serving cook.

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