Stella took offense at my new wall hanging.

"What the fuck is that supposed to be? You're not leaving it up there, are you?"

"What? You don't like it?"

"It's disgusting."

I lit a cigarette and admired my new canvas.

"My dear, Stella, let me remind you that you too are disgusting, and I've not thrown you out."

She continued. Of course. Stella never knows when to quit.

"I thought you said you were going to quit smoking for New Years'."

"I did. I did not smoke on New Year's Day."

"Let me remind you! Your hands were shaking so bad after your drunk-a-thon, you couldn't lite a cigarette."

Now I'm getting into this. I love the blood sport.

"As I recall, someone, who shall remain nameless, removed all the matches and cigarette lighters from my home."

"You still had the gas burner on the stove!" she said.

This last statement is particularly cruel as my eyebrows are permanently singed.

"Let's call this wall art a little payback for leaving me in nicotine withdrawal for an entire day, " I said to Stella's backside as she left the room holding her nose.

Okay, so I started smoking again. Who can blame me? I'm stuck in this apartment with my three amigos. Thus proving the old saying, "Familiarity Breeds Contempt."

I've breed enough contempt to populate a small island. Every little thing they do sends me cascading into a free-fall of expletives and threats of decapitation.

Oh, Covid! What have you done to me!!

Remember that cute little wrinkle Q gets when he catches me in a lie? It's no longer cute. I want to surgically remove it with the corkscrew end of my wine opener.

Chewing with your mouth open and spraying food particles on the dinning room table is no longer acceptable. Baling wire is available on Amazon.

Toe-nail clippings on the couch cushions is now a crime punishable by removal of the offending appendages.

The only two things I have yet to despise are Sparky and Trevor.

It's hard to get mad at a stuffed bear. And, at this point, the dog is the only thing still showing me affection. I have learned to love dog hair and drool on my waddle.

Back to the picture:

I bought it from a Web Site called Canvas Cultures.

It suits me. It's outrageous. It's vulgar. It's in-your-face, crude, and rude.

It reminds me of the Zee I used to be before being reduced to flannel pajamas, chin hairs, chipped nails, and chapped lips.

Arrrhhhhhggggg.