The cat was undoubtably dead. It didn't move, it didn't breathe. It didn't meow. For at least an hour, it just laid there. So Steve got a box and brought it over here and buried it in the pet cemetary in our back yard. It joined Majik and Misty and the original Cowboy and several others that I don't want to know about, they were before my day. It's name was Nikki. It was a siamese, and it lived with Kim and Steve and Packy and Lacee. It was a pretty good cat. It only scratched Lacee a couple of times, when she really deserved it. It didn't really deserve to die. Packy and Lacee weren't too sad about it though. Kim described Lacee's reaction: "she got a really sad look on her face for a couple of minutes. Then her face brightened up and she said, 'Hey! We can get another kitty!'" That was that. Problem solved. Move on. Nikki was an interloper. She wasn't supposed to be there, the landlord had said no pets, and Kim and Steve agreed to that. But Nikki came along anyway. Misty, on the other hand, came to live with us. It was the mistake of her life. She died a messy death in the street in front of Karen and my mother and Brian. She wasn't very well disciplined, even for a cocker spaniel. When she wanted to run, she ran. You can only dodge those cars for so long, even if you're paying attention, and Misty never thought of doing that. I really doubt that she had the capacity. We don't know why Nikki died. She was a pretty young cat, probably about five years old. Seemed to be in good health. There were speculations about Steve maybe... but nothing concrete. The cat died from nothing. But this isn't about Nikki, or any other cat, or Misty, or even Majik. It's about curiosity and stupidity and intelligence and how the three working together can bring you a life of happiness and wealth. If you're lucky. Curiosity: You wonder if you can win the lottery, it's up to 37 fucking million dollars. That's a lot of money. Stupidity: You spend some money on some tickets. More than you can afford. Intelligence: You look at your tickets after the drawing. Luck: If you're lucky, you win. You celebrate, pay off all of your debts and move to Colorado or Oregon or Oklahoma or wherever you want to spend the rest of your life. OR (and that's a BIG OR) you're unlucky and you lose. And (Here's the intelligence part again) you vow never to waste your hard-earned money again. So, it's pretty obvious that curiosity got the better of you. It didn't kill you, you were lucky this time. But don't press your luck, if y'know what I mean. A short example: Curiosity: You wonder what the girl that you picked up in the bar is giggling about after you've just made love to her. Stupidity: You ask her. Intelligence: You commit suicide after she says, "Well, you're a better lover than Magic Johnson..." Luck: only bad. If you're one of those people who seems to have only good luck, read on. If you have only bad luck, you're probably dead by now, and have no interest in reading on. If you have only the normal kind of luck, come along for the ride. Every dog has his day. There is no such thing as a free lunch. The train is pulling into the station, and you're not on it. A cat only has nine lives...there's those damned cats again! I just can't seem to get away from cats! Anyway, all good things must end. There is only one way to end your lifelong streak of good luck, and, by merely reading these words, I will inherit your good luck and You Will DIE! Hahahahahahahahahahaha! So, how does That feel, you jerk? I've spent my entire life working my ass off, and you haven't! And now, I can win the lottery! Thirty-fucking-seven million dollars! Aren't you sorry that you read this? Oh, that's right, you can't be anything. Your luck ran out. OK, I'll be sorry for you, then. OK, that's long enough! Thanx!