CFU*

*Critical Fish Update

Well, for starters, Nemo, Pooh Ye and Beta are thoroughly traumatized, since I disassembled their habitat and replaced the fake plants with real plants in my ongoing War on Nitrate, the sad ultimate product of goldfish dookey. The little bastards crap like a barnful of racehorses, and it's all my $1000 German sewage treatment plant can do to keep up with 'em.

Hopefully, I haven't killed them all in an attempt to improve their quality of life, or introduced some mutant alien fungus, like the scrapings off Paris Hilton's toenails, into the tank. I now have to spend the rest of the day cleaning the bathroom, which looks suspiciously like a drunken Yeti was attempting to pot plants in the bathtub. I've also got to cart a couple of thousand rounds of Black Hill's .44 Russian down to the basement where the ammo lives, part of my International Revolver Championship gamesman ploy. If this doesn't work, I'm going to have to do the only thing I can when left with cases of obscure ammo — buy a new gun that shoots it, then, like the great Zen master Pee Wee Herman, exclaim loudly that, "I meant to do that!"