4:20

[Drunk Monk]

Frederick dp. It’s overcast and Yuki is just sitting around, which he could do at home. I’m catching up with an old dp friend.

[Greg]

Eating a sundae at Oracle Park.

[Drunk Monk]

Outside Super Silver on Pacific as Tara shops. A lovely day in the Cruz. Woodies on the wharf is today so there’s been a constant parade of antique cars.

[Drunk Monk]

Dog party at star of the sea.

Mole’s farewell - off to Alaska

[Greg]

Sitting at the pound waiting for the dogs to come back from the Fresno spay clinic.

[Drunk Monk]

Rough night. Between Yuki fireworks comforting and overeating I forgot to take my night meds.

[Drunk Monk]

Star park. Lotza dogs. The pack is having fun.

[Greg]

Here at the house, dog and cat interaction. So much blood. Unfortunately, the blood comes from the Queen and I.

[Drunk Monk]

Sanguineous, eh? Puppy fangs are sharp like needles.

Just popped awake with pre-adventure jitters. I hear Stacy is awake (she’s been training herself for tomorrow’s early morning drive) but I’m staying in bed and plan to be back asleep soon. We’ll see how that goes…

[Greg]

Cat claws did the damage. Puppies merely the instigators.

[The Queen]

He’s being kind. The Queen’s thoughtlessness was the root cause.

He said, “Bob’s on the porch now, if you want to see him.” I did want to see Bob: it had been a long, busy couple of work days and I hadn’t had a moment for Bob cuddles since Thursday morning. Greg had taken Turmoil and Trouble outside into the garden so I went out to the porch, picked up Bob, brought him in to my office and closed the door. What I neglected to consider was that when Bob was sick of being inside and needed to return to his outdoor world, I needed a way to carry him outside without running into the terrorists. Bob declared it was time to be released. I picked him up, went to my office door and opened it, imagining I’d quickly make the dozen or so steps to the back door. Naturally, the second the door opened, in flew the terrorists. Claws immediately sank into my arms and I hollered for help. Bob slashed at Greg when he tried to wrangle him. Greg then made a couple of unsuccessful attempts to get the dogs out of my office. Bob relocated to my back and anchored the claws for a firm hold. Greg then held onto the dogs as I walked out of the office with the cat attached to me like a velcro backpack, and shut the door firmly behind me. Bob did not let go. I walked to the outer door, Bob still firmly attached. I stepped outside, got down into my best “The King and I” kowtow position and waited the five excruciating seconds until Bob realized he was safe, retracted his claws and stepped off of my back over to the food bowl and calmly had a snack.

Fortunately, I just recently restocked our supply of Neosporine.

[Drunk Monk]

We’re off!

[Greg]

Have a safe trip!

[Drunk Monk]

No, it's not that time...
...that dread dread time...

I just discovered that the capacity of RM24ABC where we (Immortal Studios) presented our panel at SDCC. Theater capacity is 420.

[Drunk Monk]

I’m in a zoom meeting for parents UCF law students and their support people, which is what I will be in a few weeks. Stacy and Yuki are in svale - we had a handyman do some work plus Stacy was doing some more cleaning and sorting. The handyman thought he smelled gas so pg&e was called but they didn’t find any leaks and then cited us for air filter changing and widening a vent. Still reeling from the death of our property manager.

This zoom meeting is silly. I’m going to step out soon.