I think Catspaw had sneaked into the Neil Young Center while I was out yesterday. When I got back there was a rubber sheet on my bed, a signed picture of an exotic dancer named (if I read it correctly) Fluffy Mound over my Louis Armstrong photo and a package containing something called a Vibrasonic Pocket Pussy. I don't know what it's for, I tried giving it milk and cat food. Perhaps it's a Pokemon. My own fault for using a Greek expletive with Onanistic overtones in the Tavern. See we've got lots of new drinkers so I better behave, lull them into a false sense of security before I hit them with the old jokes and kazoo solos.
Tara a bit RtS