I took this series of photographs after my cat became overstimulated by the brushing I was giving him. This is photographic proof that he is an asshole.
This is Spinner
Now you know the truth.
If you’re expecting things to get hotter than that title, you should go put on your own sweater right now because this is a cold story about a cat in the winter years of his life. This winter cat is the one who lives with me, and I am going to stop calling him ‘mine.’ He is not mine but merely a presence that I am forced to tolerate. If you’ve been with me from the beginning, you know he is just a turd. Well this turd is teaching me a lesson about giving and all of its hazards.
This story begins, as most Christmas stories do, with a crazy little occasion called Black Friday. I turned my post-turkey Friday black by waking up at 3:30 a.m. and rolling my daughter and myself over to my friends house, so we could all go to Toys R us, and Khol’s, and the mall at an hour that didn’t make any sense. I did this despite the nay-saying of the people who were impersonating the horses. I just really thought that everything opening up at midnight to provide a stage for human tramplings was something I should see. Well guess who didn’t see anyone get trampled. ME. I have the kind of Black Friday story that is rarely told but is probably more often the case than the carnage everyone likes to tisk tisk about. In my Black Friday story, I drank two large cups of coffee and shopped while nearly half asleep. I bought some intimates, a blanket for Karli, a stuffed bear for one of her friends, and a bed for my cat. Now that I think about it, I apparently only bought items which had to do with going back to bed. Hm. I know I should have bought a TV because I think that’s what you’re supposed to buy on Black Friday, but I had just recently made the decision to tuck my very small television back into my closet so that it would stop trying to stifle my creativity. All of this bullshit you see before you is the result of that decision. I could be watching My So-Called Life. You can stream it on Netflix. Jared Leto.
So, I bought my cat this bed because of the wacky sale and also because I thought it would solve all of our problems. ‘Our problems’ are mainly me wanting him to stop grooming on my bed. Mostly, I want him to stop licking his ass right next to my ear while I’m trying to sleep. He actually doesn’t really have a problem or seem to worry about much in life except for something at 3 in the morning which makes him leave the room and go across the hall to cry loudly. Despite my problem with him, I thought it would be nice of me to buy him a bed that is super-comfy. I was carrying it around the store wishing I could shrink down to the size of a cat and lay in it myself. Why wouldn’t he love it? Oh God ! I remember why…because he’s a son of a bitch who would rather puke on my pillow than give a damn about me and my bedtime sensitivity to cat-tongue sounds.
So I brought him home and put him in it. Of course he immediately jumped out and went back to the spot on my bed where I would want to be laying. I was determined, though. I would not let this cat push me around and not give me the satisfaction of seeing him curled up and cozy in his fancy little bed. I put him back in three more times with the same result. It wasn’t until I switched things up and put the bed on top of him that he realized we were going to do this thing. He laid like that with the bed on top of him for a good minute until he decided to slide out from under it and sit down a few feet away. He must have felt a little defeated and vulnerable because the next time I put him in the bed, he licked it once and then laid down.
I'm just not into it.
Now most days are like that first day. We just play this ongoing game of Put. I walk in the room and find him out of his bed, so I put him in it. Sometimes he gets mad and bites me. Sometimes he scratches me. Sometimes, though he just stays there just kind of still defiant about it even though he is doing what I want him to.
This has taught me to never buy a present for my cat at 4:30 a.m., and also it has taught me to give the kinds of gifts that money can’t buy…like this stupeh blog that I give to you free of charge because we’re tight,
and because I don’t know what else to do with these pictures of my cat and his bed.
Wtih the understanding that exposed toes are a way of life that I’m going to have to deal with for a few months, I decided to replace
my recently absentee toenail clippers and give the piggies a little trim. But HOLD ON. I forgot that Korea is trying to ruin my life and didn’t remember until after I clipped that first big toenail with my new clippers. Just an FYI. I got them at Pro Beauty in the Vons shopping center on the corner of Borchard and Main Streets. I am mostly satisfied with that store and am not using this as a forum for trashing them. I just want to warn everybody about this particular product because it is one of the most retarded things in my day. See how the blades are curved so that they cut the opposite way from the natural shape of the toenail. Guess what that does? It makes my toenails look super stupid. That’s what. Here I will show you how.
Its a crown of inglory.
The thing is that I have naturally ugly feet which may or may not account for my no foot fetish. My toes are all seperate and spread out so that when I’m standing barefoot and square, they appear to splay. Anyone who has every had my foot splayed out before them knows that I’m not going to be the subject of sexy foot-love fantasies, and honestly that’s fine. The thing is that when I’m trimming my toenails, I would like for the instrument that is trimming them to not shape them into a scallop or ruffle or fringe. In the world of toenail fashion as well as function, peaks and valleys are not the ideal.I used them anyways because the only thing worse than ragged toenails is really long ragged toenails.
I just want it to be noted that these were made in Korea, as were Farmville’s rubber uglies. Coincedence?
We are on the same toenail schedule. Copycat.
Oh God Almighty. I almost forgot to also include a picture of my cat’s toenail clipping. I found it when I was cleaning up my toenail clippings.
I just need some space right now.
My cat is an asshole. He ate and then vomited directly back into his food bowl and then didn’t even have the decency to re-eat it. Sometimes he does eat the food again, and those are the best throw-up times. Today, though, he vomited, and then he just jumped up on to my bed like nothing happened. It was this clear fluid with solid food chunks and cat bile froth. It made me want to leave. It made me want to just grab my purse and leave all my stuff behind, and if anyone asked, I would just tell them that my house burned down and I needed a place to crash and can someone please call the red cross because I’m going to need a whole new wardrobe/house/body because everything was burnt in the fire.
It’s not just this vomit incident that is bothering me. My relationship with him is getting weird in that I think he thinks we are more than just cat/person.
I mean, every time I come home he’s sitting in the same spot staring at me like, ‘Where have you been all night?’
Maybe you're not the boss of me.
And I’m like, ‘I’ve been working so I can buy more cat food, and you can have something with which to vomit us out of house and home.’
And he keeps looking at me like, ‘Aren’t you going to come to bed?’
My cat is so annoying that all he does is groom all day. He’s like the desperate housewife of my bedroom. When he’s not grooming he’s laying on top of my head and sometimes he tries to do both at the same time. It’s like if I wanted your nasty fur, I’d hold you down and shave it off myself. Guess what else. His claws are so long that they never retract and when he walks around on the wood floors, it sounds like he’s wearing heels.
No. You're embarrassing yourself.
I’m like, “hey hussy! You going out to meet some sailors?”
He says, “meow,” which means, ‘what’s it to you?’ (in a real sassy voice).
Then he pukes, and I just want to tell him that maybe if he did something besides lick himself all day, he wouldn’t choke on his own fur. There’s no use talking to him really. I guess this is just who he is.
