I went out with my dog about 45 minutes early this morning. And what do ya know? NETHER GUY shows up as well. I DO not know what is wrong with him. Enough on that for now... But when I was off to the store today, my dog barked lovingly for my swift return, and this made Nether Girl think that I was lying dead in my apartment - or something. So, she called the landy lady. When I got home, all winded, the phone rang and my landy lordy woman asked if I was OK - cuz Nether Girl said she was concerned about me. How about that. I actually think she was genuinely concerned. How nice, right? (More evidence that Nther Guy's main problem is jealousy and fear of losing her to me, a slick city slicker, who is also sick as a dog, lying on the floor, but who thinks about that. To him, I am Super Threatening Man! - Maybe. I just want him to GO AWAY FROM ME!)
And the other inspiring thing was that, even though she had said that SHE would contact the landlardy lord-o-my lady lord about the roaches she said she doesn't have, she never went ahead and did that. That is, while reporting me possibly dead, she never even mentioned varmits or bugs, leaving it to me to do that, (if I should live). Now, that finally shows either respect, (yes!), or intense sexual cravings, (egh). But I do have to say, that sort of thing really - well, it doesn't turn me on - it just keeps me from being the zombie that I normally am, (which is a sensible survival stragedy). Oh - I convinced the landylady luv to wait a week to see if bomming would be necessary, while I dealt with the bugs and Nether Girl all by my lonesome.
Speaking of survival, my shipment from Azure finally arrived, (65 pounds), and I have been shuffling beans about. I was going to make another order tonight, but now I need to split that in two, so I can have a little money to be able to buy boric acid, special scientific vacuum bags, and any other quicky groceries I need to pick up while visitting the land of supermarket. So, I have to rearrange my order all over again. Meanwhile, my Ventromedial Prefrontal Cortex is getting pretty pre-Alzheimers again, an I really don't foresee how I will be able to walk to the supermarket tomorrow. One thing is certain but I forgot what it is...
Boing! I will have a total of 15 pounds of roasted seeds, but this time I don't think I will waste my time counting them cuz, you know, not everybody is so fastidious like that.