Gold teeth and a curse for this town.

Who wants to see moving pics? Or, well, pics of cats in boxes and such.

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So, you may have noticed I'm back. Thanks to Tiff, whose laptop I'm borrowing (and typing horribly on) until I can manage to get one of my own.

I cleaned out my toaster:At Melissa's, the boys taunted poor Miss Mabel:

This one has nothing to do with moving. I conned my mom into buying me the Playmobile advent calendar awhile ago. The first few days are a leafless tree, a black bird with its wings stretched, and an owl. So, you know, fucking creepiest Christmas ever.
My new kitchen:
Legs in my old kitchen's cabinets:
Facing a potential box shortage, I packed some things in my microwave. Not, however, including my microwave plate. In other words, I'm a moron. Legs investigates:
Moving with cats=cats in boxes. A lot.