And they say that Germans don't have a sense of humor.

Or is this a taste for absurdity? Can't tell.

Dianne was my girlfriend at the turn of the century. She was an artist, like most of the women in my past. We drank epicially, and fucked badly.(Not always.) And then we both got sober forever, and broke up immediately, because she got a job in another town. It was a true Deus Ex Machina

I stopped dating in 2002, went on disabilty, raised cats, and learned how to use Linux. Dianne taught a class, and suddenly became a really good artist. She had kind of sucked when she had been with me. Her art got around. While I was not dating at all for years and years, not one intimate relationship, she was married twice. She died of cancer in 2014. It was three years later when I learned about it by googling her. The last thing I knew she had been living in Indiana, but it turned out that for her last few years, she had been living in the same Village as me. Yeah, I live in a village.

Dianne could be really mean, and she didn't respect me at all, but she was funny, and we were funny together. The banter was an intellectual connection, and, unlike the sex, it was sexy as hell. Dianne liked to make fun of my shitty job, my lack of funds, and my cats.

So one evening we were watching the musical Cats on PBS. This version was first broadcast in 1998 by "Great Perfomances", and unlike the 2019 film, it was actually pretty bad. There were about twenty dancers, all dressed like Dr. Frank N. Furter's idea of a cat, prancing around shamelessly.

"Look!" said Dianne. "It's John's house!"

Don't let cats go grocery shopping. They get triggered in the produce section.

I'd never heard that.. Magic Fly being done by the Jingle Cats?