What's up? It's Saturday, I've decided not to work on this cold, yet sunny day. Why? Ah, I woke up with a migraine, so excuse me if today's post is late. This blog is a vestige of love, and I don't do it, because, I'm making Charley Sheen money from it. And no, this post, is not about Charley Sheen... I'm really having a hard time, coming up with something to discuss, or finding a "topic" today to write about...
I wanted to keep this post funny and upbeat, so I've decided, to talk about owning or...being owned, by a pet. Now, I've never really understood, why people like cats? Cat's, let's face it, treat us, like they own us! When, I wake up, in the morning. My boyfriend's two cats, are just sitting in front of me, waiting to be fed. But today, with having a migraine, after his, fat, orange and white cat, named Billy woke me up. After knocking open, one of the blinds. Which woke me up, to a blast of sunshine in my eyes. The thought of sticking my foot, up Billy's-cat-butt, did come to my mind.
Here's a story of a cat, that I had for 10 years, named Fang. He was like almost everything in my life, he was a very angry cat:
So one day, my 25 lb cat named Fang, who looked like he was half bob-cat. Decided, that it would be a good idea, to go play hide and seek, in my dad's closet. So what did my dad go and do, he thought it would be a genius idea, to have me, go and get Fang, out of his closet. My dad was bugging me, to get my cat out of his closet. I'm like, OK, OK...so I went, and made the fatal mistake, of grabbing an emotionally-disturbed cat. Not the way, they tell you to grab a cat, either. But...by grabbing him like a teddy bear. Now if Fang, had been, a nice cat. That wouldn't of been a problem. But what did Fang go and do? After I grabed Fang, he spun around, claws extended, just like a sumo, samurai, and dug all of his razor sharp claws, in both arms. Fang's claw's dug into my arm's! While all of this was going on. My dad thought it was the funniest thing, he had ever seen, and was in the process, of laughing his ass off. He couldn't stop laughing, while I stood there, with my cats claws, dug into both arms. I was screaming; "get them out, get them out!" Finally...he helped me. By getting my cats claws, out of both my arms. I had scars, from that cat attack, for 6 months after that. I forgave my cat, because he was killed, by the German Shepard, that lives, in our next door neighbor's, back yard. I always wondered, about the sanity of our neighbor because...he was in concentration camp, and he loves German Shepard's...what's up with that?
Anyway...my party people, why do people, have to own cats? I hate changing litter-boxes! I also hate, the way, that cat piss smells! I don't care what advertisers say about cat-litter. There is absolutely no way, to make cat piss, not smell like, cat piss. I also hate cats, because my Grannie is 95 years old, and has this black-cat, that everyone in our family hates. Because...she's, my Grandmother's, one true love. If that cat goes M.I.A, my Grannie will go absolutely ape-shit, over that cat! She'll make everyone of us who's in the house, look for that f-ing cat. Not to say, that I don't love them, there's just so many things, that I don't love about them.
My biggest example of that, is the barf-barf kitty. It's like God, gave cat's, a brush for a toung...but, then gave them a 95 year olds, shitty stomach problems. So since, we have two of these fur-producing monsters, (meaning cats) living with us, at our camp-casa. I on a regular basses, have to hear..."meow, bla, gag, gag, bla, barf, barf, gurgle, huf, huf, gurgle, some more gaging," finally...after all that commotion, the poor cat, finally produces something, that looks like, it was created, in the depths of a slime, hair-covered, hell! Now this hair ball, vomit, can stain any carpet. We'll try chasing them, into our kitchen or the bathroom, so they can let their hair-monster-balls fly. Hopefully on our tiled flooring. What winds up happening is, they'll just wind up hiding, behind our couch or...under the bed. Where, I will have to remove, those dried up hair balls, at a later day.
I just really think, that cat's our nasty...my Grannie's care taker said, why don't you stick them in a box, and tell him, that they ran away? Not like, that thought, hasn't entered my mind, on a couple of occasions. But they've grown on me.
You're probably asking yourself...Linda, how could a hairy, vomiting, shitting, pissing, nightmare grow on you? We'll my 95 year old Grannie does all that, and our family, hasen't gotten rid of her...yet. Ya, I couldn't see sending them to the gas-chamber! But they annoy him and me on a daily basses. Have you ever tried calling your cat, to pet it? They never listen...do they? Here kitty, kitty, and I get the look of; "bitch, get your lazy ass, off that couch, and come over here, and...pet me!" Sometimes, they'll even guilt me, into petting them. Maybe cat's, where rich and famous people, in a past life? They're lazy, love sleeping, won't get up to do anything, that they don't want to do. Except...for maybe, scratching up your furniture.
Now that's, the really great aspect, of owning any cat. I bought a $300 dollar leather jacket a while back. It was really nice. Now one of my friends, gave me a cat, that I eventually had, put down. Why? Because...I couldn't give that cat away. She was really nasty! One day, the cat just wrecked my jacket, for no reason, while it hung on the hanger. I opened my closet, and...there was my jacket, completely shredded by this monster. Yes, shredded, by my God-awful cat! One day, I had my driver, drop, that little f-cker off, at the pound. Do I feel badly about it? Hell no! Why? I wouldn't wish that cat, onto another human being. Anyway, I don't ever expect, to own my own cats, ever again. Especially after my favorite cat, Fang, was killed. I'm over the whole, I have to own another life form, thing. Anyway, I think that it's cruel, to keep any animal inside! Especially cats, because...they love going outside, and sunning themselves, in the sun. So, I live with two, they're OK. But they're not mine, they're his! Even though I take care of their furry asses, it doesn't matter because they're his cats! That's the end of this, deep thought moment. Have a great weekend...
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