Nov. 16th, 2011

rejectomorph: (laszlo moholy-nagy_chx)
In this particular universe I had chili beans for dinner. There were tortilla chips under them and cheese melted on top of them. I'm now imagining a different reality in which I had the beans and tortilla chips (which get pleasantly chewy from being soaked in the bean juice) and cheese, but also had some sour cream to put on top of them. Why I forgot in this universe to buy sour cream I don't know. My self in the parallel universe might be a little bit smarter than I am, or at least a little bit more competent.

I suppose I should be glad that I'm not yet another self in another universe who didn't even buy a can of beans, or forgot the tortilla chips or cheese, or both. That me is such an ass. Look! He's wearing a red beret with a gold lamé jacket, and no pants! What the hell is he thinking?

In this universe, the feral cats have eaten every cicada that has appeared on the back porch this year. I've seen a couple of cicadas buzzing around the porch light at night, but their cadavers are nowhere to be seen the next day. The only explanation is that the cats are devouring them. I'm not sure it's the feral cats, of course. It might be the black cat from across the street, who has taken to spending more and more time in my back yard, but at least one cat must have a taste for cicada, and it isn't Portia, who doesn't go out back. Whichever kitty is disposing of them, I'm grateful, and happy to have been relieved of the onerous task of removing big insect bodies from the sink every day for a week.

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