Dudes, like who is this Kat Parsons person anyway?  It's like she's
skitzophrenic.  I don't know about you guys, but I have this scary vision
of her sitting in the corner rocking back and forth with wild eyes.  I
imagine her under the delusion that her crochet needle is talking to her
while terrified eyes of ferrets and cats keep their eyes glued to her and
creep past her.  First she's Kitty Kat.  Then she's Kat Parsons.  Then
she's SOS Kat.  Then she's Mary Kat.  And lastly, Just Plain Kat.
 
I don't know WHAT her problem is because when I go to a symposium, she
pops up out of thin air on me.  Imagine checking into your room in the
late hours of the night, opening the door to your room, and seeing this
little lady (did I mention she is little?  Like a Lolly Pop Kid she is)
sitting on the bed next to mine.  When I try to make peace offerings so I
can try to make it til morning safely, I don't know whether to give her
lolly pops, chocolate (Oompa Loompa's like chocolate, yes?) or 'shrooms
(don't gnomes do mushrooms?).  She eats it all, so I suspect she might be
mixed.  I just crack the door open, toss the goods in on the floor, wait
for her to pounce on it, then I can make a run for the bed, ya know?
 
Personally, I found Alex's habit of polishing bell peppers, light up
flip flops, and tractor stickers much less threatening.  And I found Reb
McFarlanes dribbling on the toilet and stalking of Dr. Fitzgerald so much
easier to deal with as well.
 
I just couldn't hold it in any longer.  I really couldn't.  It's just
gone way past my tolerance levels.  I just get sick and tired of everyone
thinking she's so wonderful and generous and all.  I mean it just makes
me puke.  Pickles
 
ps, just a note for the record that this was made in love and jest in
reply to Alex's request.  I love you Kat, my special friend...
[Posted in FML issue 5378]