The other day, I went to an antique fair at a goat farm and drank some lemonade.

The other night, I watched a tv show about training cats. The star is named Jackson Galaxy, and he is kind of like a rockabilly guy except with way unfortunate facial hair. He trains cats using positive affirmations and the rules of emotional detachment and living in the moment. He carries little feathery cat toys in a guitar case and found cat training as a way to fight drug addiction.


I bring this up, because there is something terribly, horribly wrong about starting a paragraph with the sentence, "The other night I watched a tv show about training cats." I think, that when someone starts a paragraph with that sentence, it is a cry for help. Friends don't let friends watch tv like that. And now, I am seeing if I can train Otterpop to be less of an asshole, I mean, MY FRIEND THE FRIENDLY OTTERPOP TO BE MORE SUPREMELY AWESOME, by using positive affirmations I learned on tv from a sideburned cat trainer who drives a pink convertible around Redondo Beach fixing cats named Blinky.

Otterpop is my friend and she is everyone's friend and she loves loud diesel trucks and Ruby and all big dogs, each and every one of them in her supreme awesomeness.

That is messed up. I can't tell if it's working. Now here's another doozy of a sentence.

The other day, I went to an antique fair at a goat farm and drank some lemonade.


It's sort of in the same sentence vein as, I tried to clean my house except I'm a hoarder and there were too many stacks everywhere so instead I ate some cold pancakes and tried to use skills of telekinesis to levitate a dusty plastic owl.

Desperate cry for help.


There were a lot of ladies at the antique fair in floppy sun hats buying stuff that sellers scoured out of estate sales then painted either white or turquoise. You can paint most anything white or turquoise, sand it down, and sell it at a vintage fair. I totally wanted to buy a life size aluminum alligator, a dirty red box with a horse on it, and a travel trailer. I am pretty sure if I had purchased those 3 items, I would have a perfect life and solved the hoarding problem by putting all the stacks in the travel trailer and using the alligator for a couch.


Now I am thinking perhaps just sell everything in my house at a vintage fair and sanding down the inside and painting it a superior shade of turquoise. And filling it with cast aluminum alligators and bears.

This would put me on the right track to a supremely awesome life, I am pretty sure.