So I was going to do a play on skunkafunkaskinkadinkydoo today, but instead, the skunk showed up on my doorstep.

(That's what I get for giving shout-outs to animal totems, right Vamp and Mange?)

This morning, I was running late already because of Zippy and The Squirts. This is not a band; it is my cat's old man problem.

I was late due to scrubbing cat diarrhea off all four cat boxes. (By the way, the hardest substance known to man is NOT diamonds, but cat diarrhea. Soon, people will start giving each other engagement rings made out of it, just you wait. It will be all the rage.) I had to wash Katina's little blue box because it is the only one she will go in. If the little blue box is befouled or unavailable, she resorts to using the curtains. Nice.

So I was ready to rocket out the front door when...SHIT!

Homeless guy on my stoop.

I slammed the door closed and locked all the locks. Then I realized that I couldn't lock the deadbolts because then I wouldn't be able to get back in. So I unlocked 2 of the locks, but didn't want to re-open the door to check because the smell was already wafting in. GREAT. I pay $808/mo. for this kind of crap.

After standing there, fiddling with the locks for another five minutes, I started feeling bad. He looked all pathetic. Maybe I should have given him something. But then, he might start knocking on my door at all hours because HE KNOWS WHERE I LIVE. F---ing great. I should have put him in a box and shipped him to Nancy Reagan.

Instead, I crept out the back window and shimmied down the drainpipe.

Then I had to run only to catch the WRONG! bus to work. I got off as soon as I could (Highland) but there are NO buses on Highland, at least not from Wilshire to Fountain, so I had to walk. On the way, I stepped on a snail (I love snails!) almost got run off the sidewalk by a painting crew, and got soaked by someone's sprinkler system.

You'd think I would take the hint and get the F. out of Los Angeles.