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A Cat Tale
 Rebecca: I had a friend over last weekend and, as usual, we smoked a joint in the dining room and proceeded into the computer room to fuck around on the internet. About an hour later we decide to smoke another joint. So I go over to the dining room table, where I was sure I'd left my foil-wrapped chunk of hash. Strangely, it wasn't there. Underneath the table, however, was my cat, my safety pin and a small piece of foil.
Pandora: She freaked. Terrified that her cat had swallowed the hash (how do you explain that to a vet?) Becky proceeded to tear apart the bookshelf under which her kitty keeps her supply of foil balls. Now, most cats love to play with balls of foil, but Becky's cat is absolutely obsessive about it. Every time she cracks open a new pack of smokes, the cat comes running for her obligatory rolled up ball of foil. Rebecca tosses the ball, the cat chases and fetches the ball, plops it into an empty ashtray and waits until it is thrown again. I believe this cat is part dog, as well as possessed by Satan, but that story is for another day. Anyway, Rebecca finally got through ripping apart her bookshelf where she found a pile of gold foil balls (courtesy of Matinee Slims Extra Mild 100s) and a single silver one. "Fucking excellent, this is it," she said, grabbing the silver ball (courtesy of President's Choice generic kitchen foil) and opening it to find the hash. Her demonic-cat-from-hell was safe. They took all the foil balls and threw them around the room. The cat was flying across the apartment playing with three at a time. She thought she'd died and gone to heaven. When Rebecca related her story at work the next day, a colleague said: "I would have torn the cat open if that had happened to me." I'd fucking love to be a cat. We'd like to send some sweet, hot loving to Bob Barker who has turned legal in 10 provinces and three territories today. Happy birthday, Bob! We're drinking some gin and tonic in honour of you today. Okay, we'd be drinking it anway, but you get the point.
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