Cats are Horrible, RIGHT?!
Seriously, fuck cats, am I right? They strut around without a care in the world, ignoring the people that feed them, clawing the shit out of the furniture, and then taking off for the night like a god damn vampire, doing who knows what out there on the streets.
You wanna know what they’re doing? Screwing and killing.
There, I said it. Your cute little widdle, cuddly wubbly meow-machine, leaves your house, meets up with a gaggle of it’s cat friends, and hunts animals with the fierce, evil intensity of a panther. They probably don’t even eat what they kill. Instead, they probably just mockingly prance around it, turning their nose up, and waving their stupid tails at it, while it slowly bleeds out.
And then they fuck.
Right out in the alley under the stars, behind the Denny’s dumpster, as LOUD AS THEY FUCKING CAN. And who cares right? They’re cats. Fuck’em.
But THEN what do they do?
You know what they do? I’ll tell you what they do. They seek out the specific friend you’ve invited over… the one with the most to lose - the one with horrible cat allergies, that just wanna enjoy one day on this earth amidst the horrible trudge to the grave - and they fuck with them. When your friend, “Bill” walks into the party, the nearest cat will immediately clock Bill as the cat allergy guy, and then they’ll spend the whole night rubbing up against Bill, jumping into his lap, and generally farting their stupid “cat-iness” all over his night until his eyes get so watery, his snotty nose, so runny, that he has sprint to the bathroom so his body can involuntarily, and quite violently try and remove every hair, particle, and ion of CAT from his body.
Poor Bill right?
The worst part is that the whole night up to that point, Bill will be telling people, “I don’t even like cats, why is this cat being so friendly? No it’s not problem at all.”
But it is a problem.
Because the SECOND, Bill tries to actually make an effort to accept this furry little bitch, and give it a little tummy rub, the cat will hiss and claw at poor Bill’s hand, probably infecting him with the residue of whatever animal it murdered and screwed next to that is left under it’s claw nails.
Because cats are horrible.
Who’s with me?
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