Fried Chicken and Sunday.

I’m not exactly feeling on top of the world today but I oddly enough wanted fried chicken. Not the outer part necessarily but the inner tender part. There’s a “Southern” fried chicken place inside of a Chinese supermarket here called 99 Ranch. They have great fried chicken. Not as good as Jollibee’s but pretty decent. The key is that it doesn’t get soaked in grease. So that’s going to get picked at for a bit.

I don’t like greasy fried chicken. And honestly, I just want a little bit of it. I am sure as soon as Goji the Eternal Stomach realizes there’s food in the house, she’ll be here telling us all about how she’s been starving her entire life and woe is her.

This cat is NOT starving.

She DOES eat like she is. She unhinges her jaw like a moray eel and bites down viciously into the dry food. I think she’s almost at her year mark but she’s still growing and learning what it means to be a cat, including being loved. She DOES have a bathroom fetish but only for me. I cannot go to the bathroom without her supervision and right before I go to bed, she comes in to demand a bit of snuff… catnip… onto the carpeted stairs leading to the window table they lounge on. She’s settling in and doing the whole kitten thing but man she loves her brother, Badger. Which is good to see.

Now, let’s see if I can eat some dinner before I get a striped stalker sitting beneath my laptop table.

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