• I'll describe the concert later... I got some shit to say first... Some really really bad news... ...One of my favorite cats died today. He got ran over by accident. Right after the fucking concert, the morning after, I'm still kinda excited from the whole thing, and my mom was leaving for work. She was in a big hurry so she wouldn't be late. She was pulling out of the drive-way... and she didn't she him... She came running in the house, crying and shit in freaky, gasping sobs, screaming "I HIT BULLY! OH MY GOD!" and shit like that. Bully is one of my cats. She ran back outside to check on him, then came running back into the house again, sobbing about 5 times harder. "OH GOD!! IT WAS ELVIS!!" Elvis is... um, was... one of my cats. I didn't cry at first, but it didn't take me long. ... Why did it have to be Elvis? He was healthy... nice... cute... but he had to die after one of the best nights of my entire life. My mom left for work after calling my dad, who was out somewhere, and told him to come home. Sigh... Everybody loved Elvis. We found him in the field next door when he was a kitten, about 5 years ago, and we took him in. He wasn't like our other cats... he was more like a dog. He would follow you around, and he would sit on our drive-way and just stare out at the street, waiting for something, like a dog to pick on or an alley cat to chase away. He was our little guard-cat, like a guard-dog that purrs. When my mom would open her car door and he'd be out there, he'd jump into the car and get in her lap. Visitors would always say how cute he was and the little kids they had with them would always want to pet him. He had six toes on each foot... and it made it look like his paws were bigger, like he was wearing mittens. That's what made him special. He was able to father a few litters of kittens. We now have two other kittens with six toes, Mittens and Cappy, both little girls. There's probably a few more litters we don't know about, with all the unfixed alley cats around here. He went without pain... At least it was quick. The way most of our cats die is they get really sick and suffer a lot, until we take them to the vet to be put to sleep or they die on their own. I wouldn't want to see him sick and dying.. that would break my heart even more. My dad's going to bury him in the median by the sidewalk, where Elvis used to lay a lot. Elvis would like that. He used to sleep there all day... and now he's going to be sleeping there forever. I'm crying again... I stopped for a while, but now I'm all depressed again. I had typed something similar to this post once and almost submitted it, but something fucked up my computer for a minute, and I wasn't able to. Sigh... That's why I consider 'Dead' from Korn my anthem: All I want in life is to be happy (Happy) It seems funny to me How fucked things can be Every time I get ahead I feel more dead I start to feel good, but then something takes it away, and I feel like I'm nothing again, like I'm dead. (That's a quote from Jonathan Davis, though maybe not the exact words... DAMN he looked cute in his kilt yesterday...) But.. I'll get over it sooner or later. My dad went and checked on my mom at work and said that she's feeling a lot better, so that's good. A moment of silence for Elvis, please, for the little soldier that lived out on the drive-way, for the loving and caring cat he was, is, and forever will be... I love you, Elvis. Rest in peace.

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