Today's featured daily humor:
I hate cats If a cat was suddenly thrust upon me, let me tell you exactly what would happen - as well as what wouldn't. I would absolutely be disgruntled and put-upon by the responsibility and the cost, but more so by its presence - I would shoe it away with my foot, tsk at its neediness, and feel legitimately like a victim of chemical warfare at the regular whiff of its stinky shites. I would resent having to buy and feed this thing expensive and foul-smelling pellets, and empty the litter (also expensive) that it would constantly corrupt with its repulsive cat-ass. I'd try to get it outside and out of my sight as much as possible, so I wouldn't have to fucking look at it - its greasy fur that sheds all over the place (bought a new hoover), the way it looks at you in general with its weird eyes, the whoreish rub of its tail as it passes me by on the way to its bed - these things sleep half the day or more away like fucking leeching bums, like they don't seem to have a care in the world.. Disgusting! I suppose the only good thing would be not having to kill a generation or three of mice every winter.. I guess it's the scent of the cat or something that deters them? Fewer flies and spiders too. Anyway, I would absolutely hate if she came to my door at night and fucking scratched at it like a desperate bitch - as I get older my sleep is precious, and I don't need some dirty cat interrupting it, having to get up and open the door, let her in just to shut her up, and then - urgh - having her creep up beside me, attacking my legs, and start that stupid purring nonsense. That would wreck my head, why can't she sleep in the fucking cat bed I paid 40 for? And for that matter, when she isn't intruding my privacy, why does she prefer to sleep in the styrofoam box that the toys I got her came in?? (I had to buy her toys so she'd occupy herself instead of annoying me all of the time). Another thing that would annoy me, is if, when I got up in the morning, _to enjoy my well-earned retirement_, this bitch would be up ahead of me, and down in the kitchen, meowing like an addled sheep, and I'd have to cook my porridge with her meowing meowing meowing by the stovetop. Why the fuck should I give her a little portion of my porridge, in a little porcelain bowl - especially since I poured her the cat nuts the night before and there's loads left. She might love porridge but I would never, _ever_ share my porridge with a dumb animal, so we'd have to eat it together at the table every morning. Urgh. My wife and I used to eat porridge together, every morning. My daughter and I too, when she was little. Imagine only having some fucking stinky-ass cat for company, eating the porridge I made for us both, with her just furiously lapping at the bowl with her little cat tongue, lap lap lap, and looking at me with her goopy little cat eyes, purring away like an idling Porsche. And then what? I'd let her out, and we'd play in the garden for a while, go our separate ways while I water the flowers and ferns, which I don't give a fuck about, but I water them anyways just out of boredom, and then me and the cat would eventually reunite for a collective nap in front of the telly.. Urgh. No. I would fucking hate that.