  I should have known it was going to be a peculiar sort of day when I called CBG at quarter to nine in the MORNING, and he was awake. Not only was he awake, but i was awake, and Kurt was awake. So, we went to lunch. Before lunch, though, we wandered around downtown w/v, and found Dr. Tiggy Jones, Esq. in kitty jail. Jones showed up at Moak's (aka CBG - i hate that pseudonom) place, and let him know that he was a proud cat owner. Jones, being cold, skinny and shivery was given a layman's exam by me, and he was duly fooded and watered. Jones pulled a littlest hobo, however, ran ran off into the Blue without even his pocket hankie, and Moak was left catless. Until today, that is. I make habit of visiting kitties in the shelter, and whislt kurt and moak were doing pre-lunch book window shopping, I was over smelling the cat pee, and feeling the love. One cat looked familar, and acted familar, and it promptly left my head. Moak and Kurt came in to fetch me, and Moak addresses Jones, and told him he was stupid.
He decided to spring Jones (aka Tiggy to the good folks at the w/v animal hospital) from kitty jail after lunch. We're walking on main, and we see a CBC van with all the trimmings, and two cameras, and a well-seen news anchor who wanted our thoughts on the upcoming election. (There is an election? Oh, please ask me my extremely educated opinon) I may or may not be seen on national tv with my hawaiian shirt on.
Classy. Kurt and Moak said some reasonably intelligent things, i burbled at bit, then it really really was off to lunch, and errands, and the end of certain oddity. Rounded off the afternoon and evening with Seth the wonder toddler, watched him smear food substances everywhere conceiveable, laughed and watched cartoons while crashing trucks. A good day, by all accounts. Now to fearlessly quash the evil of Gargerensis. 
