I have been given the honor of caring for Kinley's hamster, Kiki. She I's a tiny little Russian dwarf. No bigger than a small mouse.She fits comfortably in the palm of my hand. She is in the habit of running in her little tread wheel at night. All night. I can't for the life of me figure out how, but her tiny little self in her little wheel manages to make as much noise as an entire steel mill. So far, I have been blessed with 6 cats, a Guinea pig a dog and God knows how many hamsters. At least 6 that I can remember but I know there were others. I'm not exaggerating when I say I live in a zoo. But it seems appropriate somehow. I have conversed at length with all of them, Camo and the late Kermit more than the others because they were delighted to screw with me on every occasion. Hamsters don't talk as much as other critters but when they do it's very deep and philosophical. Deep thinkers and poets are the hamsters. They are cool like that but some of their ideas are over my head. I can't let on that I don't really get it, because I don't want to appear to be dumber than small rodents.. My life is all a lie.

Movie night. The movie is "Space Babes From Outer Space". That's right, redundancy in the title. Indicative of the greatness  to come. SO There was a space ship with 3 pretty ladies. They had tiny outfits. They also had bouncy bits. There were gratuitous amounts of bouncing. These space ladies had to crash land on Earth, because - reasons. They hit a barn. There were chickens. There were donkeys. There was a farmer. Didn't see no cows but I can't ⁷guarantee they weren't there. They wound up at a naughty club. The nice man at the naughty place was kind enough to let them bounce.  Generous men at the naughty club kindly gave them some money. Did my heart good to see such selflessness. The generous men seemed thappy to help the bouncy ladies. They put their donations into the ladies' pants. I suppose it was  because the ladies did not have pockets. Anyway,  some gross space bad guys showed up and  tried to get the ladies.  I  don't think the space ladies wanted to go. They bounced vigorously and the ugly space guys didn't get them. Yay! The farmer whose barn got squished by the space ship showed up to see that the bouncing ladies were OK. He saw yhe ladies bouncing and it made him happy. I think he was overacting a bit. Way too excited just to see some ladies bouncing. Two of the bouncing space ladies wanted to go for another space ride. The third one wanted to stay on Earth with the farmer, who was happy about it.  So happy that he decided to go riding on the space ship too. Everybody seemed to be happy.  I think I wouldn't hate going for a spaceship ride with bouncy space ladies too.I wonder if they would let me steer the ship. That would be awesome. The end.

OK . So.... Flying cars. Where the hell are our Flying cars? Futurists have been predicting Flying cars for 60 or 70 years. By now I should be able to get a used one for cheap. Even a hoopty flying car would be cool. I wonder if they will be "flying" as in soaring through the clouds or just a few feet off the ground. Maybe they will be able to go at least 150 or 200 feet high. That would be high enough to bomb people with dog turds. Not that I would do that.  Will they have AC? Navigation? Leather seats? I like leather seats. With ass warmers! Oh I love my ass warmers. The Magic Melvin Mover has leather seats and ass warmers. It don't fly though. It's almost 2020. The MMM SHOULD BE able to fly. I think we getting hosed here. I mean how long are we supposed to wait? They are screwing around with going back to the moon or Mars? MARS? SCREW THAT! I want my car to fly. They owe us that. The scientists, designers, engineers, and all the other nerds need to drop what they are doing and get me my flying car. A nice  red one with ass warmers.

Watching Disney Channel all the time it has turned out to be a very positive experience for me. I've learned so much about myself. A few months ago, I learned that my eyebrows were indeed "on fleek" . More recently I learned that I am "totes adorbs" and "sups cute". Hey I don't make the rules people.

Old Melvin has been having kind of a difficult time. Had a stroke July 23rd then another trip to the hospital for pneumonia and sepsis I can assure you all three things stroke, pneumonia, and sepsis, kinda suck. I am hoping to get back to posting ridiculous and offensive bulshit. Won't that be exciting

To celebrate my current state of idleness and lack of ambition, I have decided that I am going to start having afternoon tea. I will drink only the finest teas imported from Food Lion. I will have my bologna sandwiches cut up in tiny pieces to eat with my pinky stuck out. Of course I will have to travel to the far western land of Walmartia to procure suitable Chinese plastic vessels with which to prepare and serve my tea. The cat has indicated that he might join me if I promise not to wake him up. It's going to be awesome.

Cleaning out the cat litter box is not usually the highlight of my day. Especially when someone has eaten something they should not have. This morning while I was dutifully digging in the Box of Treasures, I was startled to hear someone call my name. I looked around and saw nothing. Then I heard my name called again. I looked into the litter box and there was a little turd standing up on its end. It had a little face on it and was calling my name. After a few seconds of shock I replied, "Well hello Mr. Turd". "Hello Melvin" the little turd said. I asked "What can I do for you this morning Mr. Turd" "Well first of all" he said "you can call me Mr. Poopie. We really are not fond of the term, turd." "Well then" I said. "I didn't know that. But then I did not know Tu.. I mean, Poopies could talk" With a thoughtful look he said "I suppose not. I'm one of a couple of dozen talking Poopies ever to have existed" . I said with a tinge of sarcasm, "Well I don't know, but I think I may be honored. I mean, to have something as rare as a talking Poopie visit our humble catbox" He said "Thank you very much" I countered "You're welcome Mister Poopie" . He didn't know but I actually was enjoying saying the word poopie. Again I addressed Mr. Poopie and said "To what do I owe this great honor then". He said "It's not by accident Melvin. We have reason to believe that you just might be the 'Chosen One" . I was a little taken aback. I asked "Chosen for what?" Mr. Poopie answered me with grave seriousness in his voice. "The one chosen to solve the Great Problem." "Great Problem?" I asked. "Yes" he said. I continued "I'm sorry Mr. Poopie but I have no idea what you're talking about." He said "Really?" I said "Really". He moaned " Damn. It seems that I may have made a trip for nothing." I said "Yeah?" He explained, "If you were the chosen one, you would know" . I said "Okay, that's fair. And I do not know. At all. No clue." Mr. Poopie looked a little irritated and said to me in a rather snarky tone. "Well then, you are of no use at all". And with that Mr. Poopie disappeared under the litter and I didn't see him anymore. (I know, it's very strange to me too). I resumed the chore of digging the little poopies out of the cat box and it struck me. How very sad. To be told you are useless. By a turd.