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05.31.2003 - 12:15 p.m.


The other morning there was a dead mouse outside our bedroom patio door, presumably slaughtered by Cat. It was very small and grey and its fur looked a little chewed. When I got home from work I checked and it was still there, lying on its side with its paws curled. I got a paper plate, picked up the mouse by the tail, put it on the plate, and carried it to the backyard, where I put it on our table - then promptly forgot about it.

When JB got home, he did his usual routine of exciting Dog into a lather by saying "Do you want to play Frisbee? Do you? You DO?" and headed to the backyard to get the Frisbee. There was a pause.

"Is that," he asked casually, "for dinner? Seems undercooked."

I had to explain that I put the mouse out there so we could bury it, to which he responded hell no, he wasn't going to bury some damn rodent, we're throwing that thing in the trash can.

"But look at it," I pleaded, wielding the corpse-plate before me. "Its sad little gripped paws. It seems like it was a nice mouse."

JB rolled his eyes so far back in his head they made a faint popping sound when they came back, but he did get the shovel.


We saw Finding Nemo last night - well, the 4:45 matinee show, actually. The theater was packed, completely packed with kids. It looked like a couple of first grade classes had chosen the movie as a field trip. I was initially regretting choosing such an early show, but they were pretty quiet, unlike the little monsters I sat in front of during Two Towers (Parents? Don't take your 12 year old boy's birthday party to Cinerama, okay? Just don't).

Anyway, it was awesome. I loved it. Pixar can do no wrong. Run don't walk.

After the movie, we went to our favorite sushi place (shut up about the movie, it's not like I ordered clownfish). Remember our couple nemesis? Well, turns out we have more than one.

There we were, eating our dynamite rolls and sneering at the people next to us who kept ordering sushi items "without the spicy sauce, please" (pussies), when a new couple came in and our sushi chef exchanged BOWS with them. A special sake appeared almost instantly, without them having ordered it. Served in boxes.

Then Manburu, the chef, unearthed a never-before-seen tub of what looked like giant snails. He carefully pried out a curlicue of slimy, turgid flesh from a shell, sliced it into pieces and divided the pieces into two small bowls. Then, he tipped the liquid that the snails were floating in so it poured about an inch into each bowl.

It was utterly, and completely, repulsive looking. And sure enough, it was served to the couple, who dug right in. As you know, a condition of a sushi couple nemesis is not only are they maybe fluent in Japanese and revered by the restaurant staff, but also that they eat things you would only consider if, say, you were perhaps competing on Fear Factor.

What happened next sealed my fate as sushi geek forever: I reached out and took a piece of toro from the plate I was sharing with JB, and bore it to my mouth - but halfway there the chopsticks slipped. The tuna plummeted directly into my beer, landing with a plorp and sinking festively to the bottom of the glass. I had dropped sushi in my beer. Who does that?

Not a Couple Nemesis, that's for sure.


Robyn is so awesome for posting this link. My god, I watched it like 7 times at work yesterday, sniggering until I got a cramp. Check it out - tell me your favorite part. I'm partial to the scene with the cat sliding off the table and taking the toaster with it.

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