Believe it or not this marked something of a milestone between me and Phil. He and I both respond to stress very differently, and generally we antagonize the shit out of each other because of this. Usually I’m the one who gets extremely glib and flippant while Phil gets serious and worried. So when Phil made that terrible pun, I kinda got the feeling we were gonna be all right.
As a cat-butt-update, Kossuth’s behind is looking less and less like a garbage burger and more like he’s gonna have one fine bitchin’ scar to show off to his lady-and-guy friends (don’t ask, but we’ve always felt like Kossuth was pretty bisexual. You know. For a cat). Regardless, he’s earned himself a new nickname around the house: Hamburger Helper.