My wife left me because of my wandering eyes.

My wife left me because of my wandering eyes. I couldn't blame her. I sighed and switched on my sonar before I got out of bed. It sounded like they were in the kitchen cabinets ag

ain. I could hear the mice I'd named Vixen and Trixy Bell scurrying about happily. Since my wife left they have become my best friends. Vixen invited me to her mouse hole for tea

ry eyed hugging and interpersonal miasma. I declined--politely. Vixen is great reindeer, but she is not THE reindeer. I was there to meet with Rudolf and well, we all know how

you can find him by his red shiny nose. Bounding the corner at break-neck speed, I followed the reindeer and landed there in front of the children's orphanage, bag full of gifts to

give to the less fortunate. How do I stop this thing? I thought as I pulled back the reins. I lost my balance and tumbled out in a flurry of red, white, and black. The orphans

Of the storm were of all colour combinations. My cat was a totroiseshell tabby who thought she owned both me and the house. She owned me, but not the house. She didn't care whether

I died, as long as someone fed her. This is what the mass of electrodes emanating from her skullcap told me when I analysed her thoughts on my supercomputer.My cat doesn't love me!

She tolerates me as a consistent food source, low demands on her time, & frequent body heat source. Bonus points that I tried learning Catese to talk with her. Still not seeing lov

-itz around. Jon Lovitz used to visit periodically. In fact, he had helped me pick out my persnickety cat at the shelter. But it had been 3 years since he had last dramatically

depicted Colonel Sanders in a fried chicken commercial, The cat could no longer pick up the scent of chicken on his shoes and would have nothing more to do with him.