I could have mentioned that I too felt unwell -- still more or less regularly, as I am only slowly recovering from my appendectomy -- but actually doing that would have been ungentlemanly. Playing one-upmanship regarding physical ailments also seems like something old-farts engage in, and I am still young, full of piss and vinegar, and having lost an additional ten pounds during appendix week, I finally have my trim youthful figure back.
Which I am sure has not escaped her notice, and probably isn't good for her. Women tend to be conscious of their own perceived failings in the matter of weight and body mass more than men.
And stress out about it on occassion.
I had placed one of the stuffed Totoros on her keyboard, with a box of chocolate cookies. In consequence of which, when she came into the teevee room where the computers are, I got to hear all about the yummy snackipoos that small Japanese trolls like. Jigalos, Butter Bozos, Spleen Wafers. No, those are not mistranslations of foreign brand names, but, according to Totoro-chan, dee-licious! He insists that these are available from purveyors of dee-licious foods. Such as are well known to his kind.
And why don't the rest of us know about this?!?
Is there something wrong with us?
What the hell is wrong with us?!?
At one point a soft furry voice asked "what is this shithole?!"
It's probably just a rhetorical question, I'm sure.
He knows his treats can't be found.
Jigalos. Butter Bozos. Spleen Wafers.
Often the small roomies mention things they absolutely need, which the plastic rectangles that live in my wallet would surely help them find on the internet.
A request for which I always answer with a firm "no". Which is one of the many reasons that I am evil and ungentlemanly.
Or, in their words, "mean old dude".
On days when I am the only human in this apartment during the day, the small roomies keep quiet. Probably because I am pissy and will argue.
I am indeed a 'mean old dude'.
When asked what the signal characteristics of jigalos or Butter Bozos or Spleen Wafers are, Totoro-chan responds by happily exclaiming "Dee-licious!" What do they look like? "Dee-licious!" How about their texture? "Dee-licious!" Then what is their flavour? "Dee-licious!" Everything about them is "dee-licious!"
That description really doesn't help.
AFTER WORD
This morning, the furball is attacking the cookies that were meant for my apartment mate, with gusto. He's a hypocrite.
Dee-licious!
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