Cats SUCK!
Way back in the olden days,
My wife and I had a cat that was part siamese. A true little bastard, we named him Sh**ty kitty. Well, Sh**ty Kitty had a psychotic hatred of buttons. In particular, it would attack the buttons on this ugly vinyl-upholstered headboard in this little apartment we were in. One by one, the buttons would be brutally attacked and ripped right out of the headboard. To see this was actually shocking. The power and viciousness was really amazing. Those buttons didn't stand a chance.
One morning, as it was getting light in the room, I was laying there in bed flat on my back and I felt the cat jump up on the foot of the bed--not unusual as it often liked to lay on my wife's hair. I wasn't really awake--just mildly aware of the cat stepping up slowly towards the middle of the bed. Then I felt it give that little wiggle--you know--the wiggle in it's rear end it gives just prior to it pouncing on something. Of course, I knew that another button was about to get brutally attacked and ripped from the headboard.
I felt the cat leap from near my knees. It pounced on a new sort of button I guess. That dirty little bastard attacked my NIPPLE! Teeth and front claws, all deeply embedded into my man-nipple, while rear claws scratched and kicked for leverage to remove the "button" from my chest.
I had been sleeping peacefully, but this pain brought me to a new level of immediate alertness I had not experienced before. A deep, guttural and primal man-scream came from my mouth. I was shocked by the ferocity and volume of these sounds from deep inside me, as my hands came alive and went straight for the throat of Sh**ty Kitty.
As my hands wrapped around the throat of that cat, the feline teeth came out of my flesh, the claws disembarked from my areola, rear legs and back claws shifted focus and now prepared to target my arms.
Perhaps you have seen cats fly. I know I have. One cat named Sh**ty Kitty flew 15 feet that morning. It hit the wall about 6 feet up, landed on it's feet, then turned and looked back at me as if to say "What the hell is wrong with you?--I nearly had it!"
It took some time, but my left nipple did recover. What has never been restored is an ounce of faith in anything feline. I hate cats.
Way back in the olden days,
My wife and I had a cat that was part siamese. A true little bastard, we named him Sh**ty kitty. Well, Sh**ty Kitty had a psychotic hatred of buttons. In particular, it would attack the buttons on this ugly vinyl-upholstered headboard in this little apartment we were in. One by one, the buttons would be brutally attacked and ripped right out of the headboard. To see this was actually shocking. The power and viciousness was really amazing. Those buttons didn't stand a chance.One morning, as it was getting light in the room, I was laying there in bed flat on my back and I felt the cat jump up on the foot of the bed--not unusual as it often liked to lay on my wife's hair. I wasn't really awake--just mildly aware of the cat stepping up slowly towards the middle of the bed. Then I felt it give that little wiggle--you know--the wiggle in it's rear end it gives just prior to it pouncing on something. Of course, I knew that another button was about to get brutally attacked and ripped from the headboard.
I felt the cat leap from near my knees. It pounced on a new sort of button I guess. That dirty little bastard attacked my NIPPLE! Teeth and front claws, all deeply embedded into my man-nipple, while rear claws scratched and kicked for leverage to remove the "button" from my chest.
I had been sleeping peacefully, but this pain brought me to a new level of immediate alertness I had not experienced before. A deep, guttural and primal man-scream came from my mouth. I was shocked by the ferocity and volume of these sounds from deep inside me, as my hands came alive and went straight for the throat of Sh**ty Kitty.
As my hands wrapped around the throat of that cat, the feline teeth came out of my flesh, the claws disembarked from my areola, rear legs and back claws shifted focus and now prepared to target my arms.
Perhaps you have seen cats fly. I know I have. One cat named Sh**ty Kitty flew 15 feet that morning. It hit the wall about 6 feet up, landed on it's feet, then turned and looked back at me as if to say "What the hell is wrong with you?--I nearly had it!"
It took some time, but my left nipple did recover. What has never been restored is an ounce of faith in anything feline. I hate cats.
