In cat news today, it’s been decided that Hasbro’s Monopoly game (or as I like to call it, “that game that never ends where everyone just ends up walking away”) will add a new game piece to the arsenal. Being as this is cat blog, anyone want to take a guess at what the new piece is going to be?
That’s right. Monopoly fans voting in 120 countries (I really don’t see the point in making this a global decision, btw) have voted to get rid of the iron piece (that’s what that was!) and instead, replace it with a cat. Take a look at this dick:
Look at how smug that cat is. It’s perfect. Oh, and I really don’t understand how it took this long to add a cat because there has been a dog piece forever. DISCRIMINATION.
I found these treats at Target that have catnip in them so naturally I bought them. I didn’t buy them because my cats behave all the time and need to be rewarded, or for the extra 2 calories in each treat that these fat assholes definitely don’t need.
I bought them because catnip makes these morons lose their damn minds just from smelling it (okay, Quigley sometimes eats dried catnip but he doesn’t know any better), so imagine if they actually INGESTED it?
Well, I never get to witness them losing their minds because every time I give them some, Browing scarfs his down quickly and then shuffles his fat ass over to Quigley’s pile and eats those, and this behavior makes me want nothing to do with them.
I even put them in two separate piles.
Doesn’t work. Browning must eat all the treats.
I’ve blogged before about cats mocking you when you do things like cleaning and unpacking, and just general things like cats complicating your life when you’re trying to get shit done. I was cleaning a few days ago, which is a strange occurrence in the first place.
Then this happens:
So, basically, you’d like me to believe that you’re perfectly comfortable standing in a square inch of space?
So, I’ve been in Canada for the last two weeks, which means that I’ve been cat-less for longer than that. Needless to say, my cats haven’t had the chance to be dicks to me. Instead, they’ve been dicks to their cat-sitters, and their cat-sitters haven’t emailed me about their dick-ish behavior, so therefore I have nothing to report to any of you. For what it’s worth though, I did harass my grandmother’s cat while I was out of the country, and that cat hated it.
HOWEVER, I do have this feel-good, sappy, nearing-Disney-movie-status-type news story to share with the three people that read this blog regularly.
Apparently this stray cat that lives in Massachusetts literally spent an entire week in a tree before it decided that plummeting 80 feet to the ground sounded like a better idea. Seriously, people tried rescuing it a few times, but because ALL CATS ARE DICKS, the cat refused to be rescued, which only meant that firefighters would have to cut the branch down to save it.
Long story short, firefighters cut said branch down, and the world is amazed that a cat survived an 80 foot drop. I have four points to make about this story, and they are as follows: 1. Cats always land on their feet. 2. Cats are always dicks, so duh, you were going to have to pry that dumbass out of the tree. 3. I’m a little upset that this story was the most interesting story that popped up when I googled “Cat News” today. SHIT. 4. To the person that commented, “People that let cats poop in their house are weird,” on the article…thank you.
Merry Christmas from everyone’s favorite pissed off cat!
If cats believed in Christmas, all cats would get coal because they’re evil fur covered assholes that unnecessarily complicate their owner’s lives on a daily basis. And they wouldn’t even feel remorseful about it. But they don’t believe in Christmas because they’re dicks and would never, ever, like, ever believe in something so magical simply because it makes the entire planet happy and love each other for a night.
It seems this asshole didn’t get the memo because he’s still checking Santa’s nice list for his name.
I’ll save you the time so you can quickly return to not doing a damn thing…It’s not there because you’ve spent the last year puking on the carpet, eating my fresh flowers, dumping my glasses of water, and sprinting laps on the bed every morning.
Because it was Thanksgiving, I spent a couple days at my parents’ house. This is always a blessing because my mom’s cats are bigger dicks than my own and provide me with filler content.
Take this picture for example.
That’s my mom’s cat Peanut. Peanut is Browning’s daughter and basically the biggest dick of a cat I’ve ever met. If you upset her, she’ll shit in the bathtub to inconvenience you. True story.
Peanut couldn’t stand that there were cat toys in that bag. More specifically she couldn’t stand that said cat toys were not for her.
Obviously the next logical step in this scenario is to get stuck in the bag to somehow sabotage the toys for the intended cats.
The next logical step is to walk off, owning the fact that you’re stuck in a bag and it was exactly what you meant to do.
[Disclaimer: No animals were hurt. Peanut is alive and well and probably shitting in a bathtub right now.]