Well, thank you very much, Ms Colburn.  I now have the Badgers, Badgers
song and dance stuck in my head AND I spewed Coke all over the computer
monitor.  Great.  Just great.  :)
 
I too have a toilet diving weasel (and apparently now, a kitty entranced
by the porcelin as well).  Until I learned to put the lid down, my Miesa
would sashay herself around the seat pondering the mysteries found within
the porcelin.  I caught her on more than one occasion hanging by her back
toes from the seat rim, paddling furiously with her front paws in the
cold water.  Certainly an incentive for me to keep to toilet clean.
 
The new kitty has discovered similar joys as well.  He is not as choosy
about the cleanliness of the water however.  He gets lots of baths.
(Given that he HATES baths, you'd think he'd get the cause and effect
of the two, but alas...)
 
All of the weasels love to catch me with my drawers down (if you will).
When they were young and frisky, one would get in my shorts and one
would get outside my shorts and a furious battle would insue.  A little
distracting to the business at hand, but they never seemed to care.  I
have been known to even step out of one pair of shorts and go find
another, as that seemed easier than dislodging a pile of fuzzbutts from
their respective forts.  A couple were fond of using my underwear as a
hammock, leaving me with the choice of disturbing a sleeping weasel or
just sitting there.  Sigh.  They have now taught the new kitty their evil
ways.  He has started catapulting (no pun intended) into my britches
while I am predisposed and in order to kill the dastardly drawstring
that lives there.  He somehow managed to get himself wrapped up in my
underwear the other day and launched himself across the room.  It's a
wonder I ever manage to leave the bathroom...
[Posted in FML issue 5020]