Welp. I’ve emptied the cat box and taken out the garbage for the last time as a 50-year-old.

So the bloom’s off THAT lily.

Facebook has reminded me that I’ve apparently begun commemorating the night before each birthday with a selfie next to the girls. So here we are again. Looking gay as a purse full of kittens.

What I want for my birthday, in no particular order:
• Less stuff
• Someone objective to help me have less stuff
• A hellfire-damning Mueller report
• A fresh start with a normal kitten
• One single little sentence in which autocorrect hasn’t Needlessly capitalized something
• Less stuff
• A bedroom that I’ve finally painted rich-people blue to cover its current state of urine-sample gold
• Someone to help me find the right shade of rich-people blue
• My old abs
• Lots of cake
• But without compromising my old abs
• A Broadway dance career
• Less stuff
• Abs

We found a worse Barr than Roseanne!

I laid out my Bitch Kitty Laptop Bag Trap With Optional Strap Loop Corral first thing this morning when I decided to avoid the snow and work from home

And eight hours later SHE FINALLY PARKED HERSELF ON IT FOR A PHOTO OP.

I totally feel like Robert Mueller right now. Except I'm snaring smarter animals.

The indictment of my knee has escalated and gotten expanded coverage

Notice I didn’t stoop to making a probe pun. Because I can’t bend my damn knee.

Also: super-cute shoes.

I’m having my sore knee indicted

And my ripstop camo cargo shorts investigated. BECAUSE THEY’RE TOTALLY COOL.

And if you’re going to use big-boy technology like Twitter, ask a random toddler to show you how to rotate photos first. Shithole.

We interrupt your daily shitstorm to bring you this ...

LiDur oV tHu fRie WurLd

Who’s gonna man the fort now?

Is Vidkun Quisling available? Check with his people — he may still be hiding out in a Nazi bunker, but he’d be a BRILLIANT fit for this arrogantly corrupt, catastrophically imploding administration-in-name-only.

What will tomorrow bring, the pundits query ...