Chaucer Update
Looks like he was bit. Whether or not it was Pickle or a bug or something is unknown, but they popped his lip and sent me home with some antibiotics.
I'm just a 31 year old chick from Rhode Island, married to a Canadian, tattooed, childfree, and a World of Warcraft addict. I fancy myself a photographer, or an artist, but who am I kidding - I count pills and sell drugs to junkies.
I write about everything. If you don't like it, if it's too personal, if you don't want to hear it, if it offends you, if it's about you, I don't care.
I'm selfish, impatient, and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control, and at times hard to handle, but if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best.
Looks like he was bit. Whether or not it was Pickle or a bug or something is unknown, but they popped his lip and sent me home with some antibiotics.
Chaucer gets to go to the vet this morning because his lower lip (do cats even have lips?) is all swollen up. It was a little noticeable last night, and this morning it’s a lot puffier, so he’s going to get it checked out. He’s not a happy camper and is sitting across the room as though he knows what’s going on.
“My junk! My junk! My lovely, manly bumps!” — Eddie wearing nothing but a towel in the living room.
“If God wanted you to be straightedge, He wouldn’t have created alcohol and whores.” — Ed McBride in response to an edge-related license plate last weekend
