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I haven’t used my camera in ages. I love taking pictures and I wish I had the time to practice more. I used to take it everywhere with me. I got it out last night because I had to document how Fiona almost burned down my house.

Stupid cat. Or smart cat, depending on your perspective.

See this? This is a very old, but still working hand-held, heat massager. I took it out of my mother’s apartment (sorry MoC). It had a plastic piece with bristles that worked out the kinks in my legs after we moved my mom’s apartment. I loved it. And I left it on the coffee table. Turned off (because I’m paranoid), but still plugged in. The selector dial was slightly loose, but that didn’t matter. Or so I thought. The other night I heard the cat playing with it. I know because I got out of bed to see what she was doing but then I decided I didn’t care enough to take it away from her. She was just nosing it around. No big deal.


The next morning, I raised the blinds so the little beasts could look out the window and I went on my merry way to work. That night I decided to lower the blinds so that people can’t walk up onto my deck and stare into my windows at me. What? I’m paranoid.

Not paranoid enough, apparently. Because when I was standing next to the coffee table messing with the blinds, I felt heat. Heat? Huh? I looked down at the table.

Fiona managed to turn it on and made it do this.

When I take care of my grandfather’s car insurance (which is a whole other blog post), I’m checking into car insurance for myself – and renter’s insurance.

Anyone want a cat?