Feline Odes For An Urn

Not quite, but I should break now before my broadband goes into its afternoon slow zone, get something else to eat and then finish charging and wash up to take my long power chair stroll to my vet, to get Joey's remains. I am feeling overwhelmed, and do not know if Drexel U would still bend the rules to assist me. My warranty with Best Buy and its Geek Squad Black Tie protection expired, and I have a few other hundred things to do before a stroke or cardiac event disrupts me, yet I am in distress about my monetizing illiteracy, and polishing my archive content, and footnoting that I need to delete my LJ tweet links. Maybe I should risk tracking my married lover down after all these years. I could see Yahoo latching onto that as newsworthy, couldn't you? I do not want to argue with Benjamin anymore right now, and I am not really sure he can negotiate the byzantine layers to Google's support systems. I do not really hate my sister, only the relationship we have with each other. I tell her voice mail I hate her; if I am suing her, I do not yet know. It may raise our mother from the dead,