Monday, September 7, 2009


The other day I found out that I was taller than I thought I was.

One *whole* centimetre taller.  I am officially over 1.5m now...  Quick, sign me up for basketball - immediately, if not sooner! Basketball teams need at least one short person... those giant people need armrests, don't they?

That 1cm means a lot to me.. it takes me 1cm further away from ever being classified a midget (140cms, btw) or a dwarf (147cms (cripes.. that was a close one)). Hmmm, something to look forward to when I get old and start shrinking.

Sadly, this additional 1cm does not make other people any shorter.  I know kids who, at 13, are taller then me (bastards).  Granted, I think I stopped growing around that age, so I don't know why I am continually surprised by young kids towering over me.

Oooh!! With this extra 1cm, I wonder what grown-up rides I can get onto now!! *claps excitedly*

Paws For A While.

Basically, I would like to live the life of my cat, Ruski.  I mean, I am *pretty sure* I could handle sleeping whenever I wanted (all day), having the house to myself most of the time, and (if I had an owner like me) food pretty much whenever I liked. 

That's right, I am jealous of my cat.

Extremely jealous.

There would no dusting, vacuuming, or washing to get done...  In fact, the hardest thing I'd have to do as Ruski is to try and *not* cough up a furball on the carpet (or alternatively, try *to* cough up a furball on the carpet when the right mince meat isn't hand delivered and separated into pieces in my bowl).

I mean, is this not the life? Lying in the sun:

Passed out on a comfy bed:

Eating ice-cream cake from a bowl:

Sure, I spoil him.  But he is my baby.  A big one.  (He isn't fat, just big-boned.)

Yep.  Jealous.