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My Friend, My Mother's Cat and My Next Things

Adam Ostrofsky, who purchased the title of my "best friend", has continued to send me money - 10 here, 20 there, 100 today - and has made the once funny idea of selling my friendship online into what could something very creepy.

I still took the money.

Mother has the one cat Jimmy that has been waiting to die for some time but cant find a clear space on Mother's floor to fall down. Mother took him to a vet last week when she awoke from a deep sleep - induced by the Dollar Store Robitussin she uses to cure throat cancer - to find Jimmy gagging up blood. Turns out he was just choking on a tooth that had rotted out of its moribund head but they did say his terminal state is due to diabetes and failing kidneys. They suggested some type of state-of-the-art life support system or transplant or some such funnyness.

Mother decided that before she put him down, she would bring him to an "alternative" veteranary type. She has asked that I not use the "Doctor's" real name on my site, so I will refer to him as "Dr Valentine", as that is his real name. I'm too wine-drunk to pry my imagination.

Wine is what I drink when I'm not drinking tonite.

Anywhat, Mother brings Jimmy - as well as another kitty named Stanley - to St Valentine for whatever Ouija-Board medicine he has on tap. Stanley has been losing weight, she said and I tried to convince her that Stanley is gone Hollywood.

Mother called this morning and couldn't be happier with the results. The cats are doing great. They are all "calm" and "mellow" and in a whole new space, all because of this wonderful voodooman. I must miss the subtleties in the cats when I stop by to see mother. They always seem to be as calm as any animal trapped in a cluttered fire-hazard one-bedroom apartment could be.

(Editor's note- The phrase "one-bedroom" is misleading. No one has been into Mothers bedroom in years. Mother sleeps on a bunkbed in the front room that I left behind when I moved in 98. She sleeps on the bottom and uses the top for... well, clutter. Excesses of clutter. No one has seen the bedroom door opened since.)

The diagnosis?

Seems that Jimmy the Dying Cat was just carrying "guilt" from being trapped in that emaciated body, guilt that he was picking up from Mother. Mother was stopped in her tracks with this show of clairvoyance. It must have been like he could actually crawl into kitty's dying head!

Mother asks in half-joking awe - "Do you do *people*?"

"Of course, I do." says Dr. No-Rape-For-The-Willing.

I'm in 1500 dollars already, Mother. Of course, he takes people. I bet for another 1500 he'll agree to do alternative plumbing or transmission work.

"The reason your engine is tapping is that it's sending you a signal in Morse Code. It's saying 'Have the boy send money!'. You haven't been... revving it, have you?"

Remember that Mother has had her experiences with *alternative* types. Back in Florida she got beat for 2500 clams by a psychic who claimed she'd had a curse put on her. In order to remove the curse, Mother had to tape hundred dollar bills on her body while she slept and then bring them back to the psychic so they could be burned in secret psychic-only ceremonies. After she was in for 2500, the woman vanished. A couple years later, Mother saw her on the evening news. Busted for ripping off stooges. Thank goodness has finally found one of the good apples in the Cat Whisperer.

After all, the proof is in the pudding. The fifteen year-old cats are calm - aren't they???

Mother has an appointment tomorrow for her sinus, chest and back problems.

With a holistic veteranarian. It'll take time, he told her and why wouldn't it. You can't expect overnight results trying to cure 45 years of smoking menthols with tuning forks and aromatherapy as much you can't remove a curse without burning many Ben Franklins.

Only now its my Ben Franklins.

Mother thinks that since I'm on television, we are rich. Mother doesn't realize that if the channel is higher than 11, we aint retiring anytime soon. But Mother sounded so happy - and the cats are feeling less remorseful, who am I to be the buzzkill?

You can no longer purchase my friendship online. But you can send money to buy Voodoo For Mother's Cats. Highest Bidder gets to be my Dad and will get the corpse of the first cat that dies of guilt.

Send money to buy Voodoo For Mother's Cats

Top of Form

Bottom of Form

I just got to Memphis and it looks like this could be a good fucking time. A club that books Ron Jeremy, David Cross, Neil Hamburger, Rudy Ray Moore - in Memphis? I'll let you know what happens.

And get your tickets soon for the Madison show September 26th. The Hangdogs will be playing down the road after the show and may even play with me at the Barrymore.

Hey, Los Angeles - I'm actually doing a show in town. So show up. 
September 17 at Amalfi, 143 N. La Brea Avenue (between Beverly and 1st) 
(323) 938-2504

The third in a series of meet-and-eat events for Arianna Huffington supporters will be held Wednesday night, September 17 at Amalfi in Los Angeles, from 7 to 9 pm. Come join the grassroots excitement surrounding Arianna's surging candidacy, which has received donations from more contributors than the campaigns of Schwarzenegger, Busatmante, and McClintock COMBINED!

This meet-and-eat will feature performances by comedian Doug Stanhope.

Wedesday, September 17, 2003 7:00 pm - 9:00 pm Amalfi 143 N. La Brea Avenue (between Beverly and 1st) Los Angeles (323) 938-2504

Free admission and free pizza
"Everybody gets a slice!"
Hosted by Jeff Norman

Event info:
Campaign info:


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