A High Wind In Garfield

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     The wind ripped my false roof off last night.  I have a corrugated tin roof in an attempt to buffer the "sun's anvil" in the summer.  This is me about 9:30 a.m. That is my cat General Jinjur, and not an anthro at the window.  I went back inside and had some instant coffee.  If I can just stall long enough, I'll be dead and won't have to constantly fix every goddamn thing I own.  I think I was supposed to die leading a bayonet charge, but I quit the Corps 'cause I was going to be a rich, famous author.  Now I've outlived my value to society and have to untangle an antenna when I get home. 

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