4 counts as several, right? I threw away two finches. Then I found one of Poe's siblings and what I believe was a well-fed pigeon over near the bowl I feed them out of. I took this latter bit as a warning. I looked up on the wall, in the back corner, and Billy Bob Brian Zeus was laying there watching me deal with his kills. He's feral. This is a big step for him. Gifts and an entreaty for actual cat food. A level of trust has been reached. A low level, but a level, nonetheless.
Doc has come home from work, frantically gathered laundry, including most of what I was wearing, and left again to go wash it. He got one of those old lady carts that you drag around on wheels. He brought home 50lbs of cat food yesterday. And a five gallon bottle of water the day before. Now he's toting laundry with it. He's seriously looking at a washing machine. He's looking at retail stores, and I keep telling him to look at reputable places that refurbish machines, and he'll save half.
He needs to sell the expensive bike frame that Douchebag bought me. We could get a couple hundred for that. He keeps it thinking that I have an attachment to it. Hell, no. Douchebag gave it to me. I've already sold everything of value he gave me, get rid of the bike!
I ended my subscription over the phone to the background check site, but was told that since I paid through the month, I could still use it through the month. I guess I'll do lookups on myself and see where in cyberland my ethereal ass is hanging out. HA! No entries found in their available databases for Cydniey Buffers. My birth name also has no traceable information, no past addys, no email addys, nothing to help anyone put one together with the other. And on liar boy, I got a whole history of the last 30 years of phone numbers and residences and probable relatives. I have succeeded in making myself an enigma. But have I done it too well?