Cats are such dicks, they think they can run for Senate.

A cat clearly knows no bounds.

Look at this asshole named Hank, who is running for US Senate in Virginia.

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Who cares if he can’t talk or walk upright? Sarah Palin can do both of those things (I use the word “talk” loosely here) and Hank would still be a better Senator.

–Catherine

The counter is for sits.

I got home one day last week, and decided to just stand in my kitchen to see how Browning would react. He spent about 5 minutes sitting on the floor meowing at me. Then he decided to jump up on the counter directly across from me, as to be the same height as me.

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In the photo above, he clearly knows that his little cat ass does not belong on the counter…but he’s going to sit there anyway.

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“Hmm, maybe if I look over here, she’ll stop staring.”

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“I’ll try direct eye contact with this bitch I guess.”

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And, Browning’s ultimate way to say, “I DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOUR COUNTER!” is with this stupid face.

–Catherine

Unbelievable: Part 2

*Insert blog content about how I lay my nice sweaters flat to dry and then when I go to wear one this asshole has covered it in wrinkles and cat hair.*

I might as well just pick up the cat and rub him all over my torso before I leave for work every morning.

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Unbelievable.

*Insert blog content about how I get home from work and I’m tired and these asshole cats are still in bed.*

Browning has really outdone himself.

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–Catherine

Trying to Craft with Cats.

Stop me if you’ve heard this one before

A few days ago I was feeling pretty crafty. So instead of going out and getting drunk that Friday night, I made a trip to Hobby Lobby instead. On the agenda? Curse word coasters made out of Scrabble tiles, of course.

See?

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I get back to my apartment, lay all my craft supplies out, and then this starts happening.

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That’s those two assholes playing with shit behind my back.

And, let’s fast forward 10 minutes.

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Those leftover Scrabble tiles are now scattered all around my room. And they hurt like hell when I step on them in the middle of the night. All part of their plan I’m sure.

Ps–There’s only one letter k tile in a Scrabble box, so you’ll be forced to choose “dick” or “fuck.”

–Catherine

Cats hate birthdays.

Friday was my birthday. Today was Valentine’s Day. If you’re bad at math, they’re only a few a days apart, which is why I hate my birthday, and consequently the entire month of February–because it’s filled with red and pink crap. I also get double the flowers, which would be fine if my goddamn cats didn’t eat them every time.

I got home Friday and was nearly knocked over so Browning could immediately start grazing.

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And, my absolute favorite.
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–Catherine