Please Mr. Postman

Holly here. That purrific tailswatter P. Kitty sent me a little present in the mail to celebrate the year that was 2005--the year of the rooster. It was a mix CD (!!), a variation on the mix-tape, a grand ol' way to communicate with friends without actually saying any of your words. Think of them as cover songs, but in epistolary form (PS: I couldn't use the phrase "cover letter," as that has some sort of serious professional meaning, apparently -- who knew?)

I love mix-CDs from friends. But this disc that the Cat sent me has no songs from 2005 on it, first of all. Second, check out the track listing, which, by the way, is totally incomplete. As you know, mix CD etiquette dictates that there must be at least 60 minutes worth of music -- otherwise you are being sent a message; i.e. you're not worthy of more than an hour of music. Here it is:

1. Black Flag, Damaged I
2. The Avengers, Fuck You
3. The Avengers, Fuck You
4. The Avengers, Fuck You
5. The Avengers, Fuck You
6. The Avengers, Fuck You
7. The Avengers, Fuck You
8. The Beatles, Leave My Kitten Alone
[then, the disc just stops with an incomplete version of:]
8 1/2. Chicks on Speed, Glamour Girl

Now, you know about my chronic--though not debilitating--paranoia. I have the sense that the Paper Cat intended this disc go to somebody else, some enemy, some ex-girlfriend, but not me. The only thing that could create any sort of bitterness between us lately is the fact that I didn't get him that Braun Handheld Mixer he put requested on his Kohl's Wedding Registry.