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Spent yesterday evening transferring some pics of Ruggers from my digital camera to the computer and getting them retouched and resized for the Web. Flopped down on the bed to read while waiting for the phone line to free up, promptly nodded off. The next thing I knew is was 3:30 am, my contacts were fusing to my corneas, and Rugby was curled up on the pillow under my neck, just a roll-over away from being crushed to rat jelly. I put him back in his cage, removed the ladder, and went to sleep.
on the bed sometimes there are soft cloths to crawl under. sometimes the cloth is flat and square and smells like april fresh flowers or a lemon potpourri. sometimes the cloths is in a pile like a mountain and smells like uncle bob's feet which is not bad either i think.
last night there was something new on the bed. it was a round cardboard tunnel of the kind that is in my house sometimes. when i went into the tunnel it was dark for a ways and then came out into a large room that smelled like triscuits!!! there were not triscuits though that i could find.
i will go back tomorrow maybe.
I'll post the pics of The Rat this evening; I was also working on a nice pink monochrome title graphic to pull the page together visually.
This morning I submitted an application for an apartment in Alexandria; knock wood I'll be signing the lease on 6 March and moving shortly thereafter. Won't be too much longer before I've got high-speed Internet access from home, as I did in NYC.
Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH
Were you born in a 'Rat Year'?
Max Shulman's Dobie Gillis*
*as transcribed by Uncle Bob
Campy Classroom Films (and more)