After last night’s Terrifying Hamster Disaster, there’s only one thing I can think about. Fill-in-the-blanks.

I will need 7 nouns, at least one of which is a creature, and 7 adjectives.

The two skirts both fit into my purse. The sweater would have to wait under my car seat.

My sister’s car was not in the front. That didn’t mean that no one was home, though. It might be parked in the back. Or my sister might have driven off, leaving mom alone at home.

Inside TV noise trickled down the stairs.

“Are you home alone?” I yelled.

“No.”

It was a good thing I left the pink sweater in the car. It was also good that my spacious purse could disguise the pink ruffle skirt and the yellow skirt with the pearls sewn into the hem. My mother threatened to cull my harvest of Value Village finds. She could never know about my latest batch.

During dinner, she took a phone call.

“Niki,” I whispered, “There’s something I have to show you. I went to Value Village today.”

The skirt with the pearls was too good not to show off.

Niki gave me the highest praise: “You do find good stuff.” She herself made a trip to Value Village today and left empty-handed.

This bolstered my courage. What is praise if it can’t be multiplied? I had to show off to my mother.

“Get off the phone, get off the phone,” I kept thinking. “Now” is how I like my compliments.

She hung up. I leaped before her, waving the skirt to end all skirts. “Isn’t it a dream?”

She agreed it was. She oohed my sweater and aahed my ruffle skirt, as well. She promised not to destroy them as she did my black velvet jacket with the gold trim.

It was a race against time.

Must figure out how to attach scanner to computer since techie guy could not, then must dp the installation thing, then must read manual on how to scan.

The Bum Bum was ready to go. It was one of my other presents from Romania. On Saturday morning I could wait no longer, I unwrapped the Bum Bum and laid in bed, savouring each morsel.

Carefully, I smoothed out the wrapper. The time had come.

Then, I noticed this.

Frank beat me to writing about the exploding Bum Bums.

Answer to the Wednesday March 24 Psychology Test:

“She was hoping that the guy would appear at the funeral again. If you answered this correctly, you think like a psychopath. This was a test by a famous American Psychologist that he used on people to see if they had the same mentality as a killer. Many arrested serial killers took part in the test and answered the question correctly. If you didn’t answer the question correctly good for you.”

The famous American Psychologist is so famous he is only known as the American Psychologist. Since I am in the pay of He-whose-name-should-not-be-spoken, I am gleefully disposed to inform you that the psychopaths among you will be arrested tomorrow at dawn. Don’t pack your bags. The gulag supplies everything.

Today you have a choice of three holidays to celebrate:

1. Armed Forces Day (Myanmar)

2. Evacuation Day (Angola)

3. Mount Arafat Day (Kuwait)

I think I’ll go for Evacuation Day. What to wear?

(Thank you, Rabbit Girl.)

Don’t you hate it when the Black Obsidian Butterfly strikes fear into your heart?

Luckily, I am not a man.

I abdicate. Goodbye, Gemini. I’m gonna be a Taurus.

Also in the Buy and Sell: Gerry from Vancouver wants an adult teddy bear costume.

There was a Buy and Sell on the kitchen table. “Let’s see what pets are for sale,” I thought to myself.

Lots of sugar gliders and guinea pigs. “Home and hetero” chinchillas. Hampsters and hamsters. A “beautiful blonde little male mouse.” Mini Rex and Flemish Giant baby bunnies “all handled by daycare children.” A hammock for ferrets. A hamster roadster and sky restaurant.

A farrot was for sale. Is it a ferret? A parrot? Or a Dr. Moreau hybrid?

Mona Lisa gets a makeover.