Relax a little, asshole.

I always yell at my cats when I get home from work because by this point, I’ve worked for 8 or 9 hours, most likely skipped my lunch break, and sat in rush hour traffic for two hours. Chances are I’m pretty angry and the last thing I want to see are these assholes getting out of MY bed at 6:30 PM. As if to say, “I don’t give a shit that you work and pay our rent. We get to sleep all day. In your bed.”

So every day when I see these assholes run from my room to the kitchen to greet me, they’re met with one of these: “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO ALL DAY, ASSHOLE?”

Most of the time, they won’t even greet me. I have to go find THEM, and this is usually what I find.

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Or this.

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