Two things woke me up this morning, as illustrated in this brief review:

1. The cat licking my mouth

2. An earthquake

Which was more startling? I cannot tell you. The cat seemed really happy about this new activity, so I don't want to judge her. One of her more endearing qualities is her complete devotion to comfort, as evidenced by her joyous spraggling and waggling on various cushiony surfaces throughout the house--I guess I should be honored that she chose to foist her joy upon my sleeping mouth.

The earthquake itself was minor and only momentary, and I didn't have to deal with its fragile ego or penchant for darting off, tail a-fuzz, when I yelled at it to settle down.

In other news, as I am keeping this brief in order to devote more time to my new endeavor: chicken fat-flavored lip gloss, my band and I have agreed on costumes. We are going en masse as The Circus of Despair. [cue nightmarish calliope theme]

No clowns. Just a ringmaster (me, Violet); an aerialist (Sweetheart); a lion tamer (Mathrock); and a strong man (Dada, our new drummer).

So--off to the lab, for further research on this lip gloss, which I plan to call Chikin-Glo and market extensively. I hope I can count on your support.

Star of the day. . .Paul Butterfield