the day of our lady....Fela

It not a good time. I'm a mess. My scalp is a mess. I can't find what i'm looking for on the company's intranet. The fennic keeps trying to kill himself or so it seems. Every night i come home to him hanging on the window sill by his ragg'd brown paw grip, scratches and indents. No longer can i stand it when my father lies broken at the back of my mind. He's still better than other animals and a million times better than a cat (my father). Even though you got to beat him senseless for licking his own long curdled hotdog turds left under the couch or the foot of the stairs (strange places for such a desert animal) I still wouldn't trade him for all the foxes in the world (the fennic). I've stuffed my pillowcases with my dandruff (my father). I have dreams that i am drowning in instant mash potato flakes. My fingers slipping through the melting butter dock in the center of the bowl. Liquid salt scratching my throat. No screaming. A delicious smell though (the fennic). the submental account department temp has said "hi" to me for the tenth time this morning. i am foamy.