Sometimes in life we learn lessons the hard way. This cat has learned that by being a total piece of shit all the time, his owner no longer loves him and has moved on to a way cuter, way cuddlier bunny. That’s right, cat, you’ve been one-upped by a fucking bunny.
Have you ever tried to hang out with a bunny? They’re the worst. They always look like they’re on the verge a panic induced heart attack. All they do is shit, piss, and stare at you. If you get too close they run away like their lives depend on it. And even after ALL that, they’re still better than stupid, stuck up, lazy, carpet puking, stinky cats.
Wear the shame, cat. Wear it and love it.
First off, this is an old trick. Wolves have been doing this to sheep for years. I thought to myself, what an uninventive cat this is. He might as well have put on a fake mustache, nose, and glasses disguise. But then I looked again. He’s not in attack mode. He looks sad. Defeated even. He’s not trying to infiltrate their ranks to eat them, he’s trying to become one of them. He’s looking for a new life among new friends. The thing is, none of the bunnies are playing with him.
Even here among his new bunny family, he’s an outcast. So, not only is he a moron who can’t come up with a decent disguise, he’s a loser who can’t fit in with cats OR bunnies. Jesus cat, get it together. Learn how to fucking socialize already.
Why don’t more people walk their cats on leashes? Because they’re ashamed to let the world see them, that’s why. They love them deeply, but they’re ashamed of them all the same. Cats are like porn collections in that way, I guess.
Also it could be that walking a cat who is hellbent on flailing its way out of the harness you’ve strapped it in to makes you look equal parts psycho and douchebag.
Me? I’m just minding my own business, calmly dragging this spinning red ball of screeching fur behind me. No big deal.
Not everybody fears the cat as I do. In fact, many of you weird people have grown to accept cats, even love them, but the bottom line is that if this photo doesn’t scare the living shit out of you then you don’t have a soul. I swear on my mother that if I walked in to a room and saw this pile of cruelty staring back at me I would let out the most horrifying, girlie scream, then pee myself and run crying out in to the street.
That of course would trick the cats into thinking they’d won, but as soon as the police arrived I’d accuse the cats of rape. They’d be taken in to custody for questioning. At the trial a judge would make me show the jury where they touched me by pointing it out on a doll. After some convincing tears from yours truly those cats would be on their way to the slammer for a long long time. You stupid cats, you fell right in to my trap. I win again!
Why on earth I searched the term “Cat Stew” in Google Images is beyond me, but I did it, and I’m happy I did, because it brought me to this picture, and more importantly, to this blog post (Holli’s Ramblings):
Trying to explain to a Ghanaian that some families in Europe and the West actually view cats and dogs as a family member… [is] as difficult as it is for me to explain to people back in Canada, that in Ghana, cats are viewed no differently than chickens, and are killed, prepared and eaten in much the same way.
Sometimes in life we are truly humbled by things that we experience. This is one of those times. I’m an armchair revolutionary, speaking out against cats from a safe, secure location. Ghanaian diners eat cat stew out in the open, for fun, next to a sign painted with a cat head in a stew. That’s serious.
One thing is for sure, I can never go to Ghana for fear of looking like a total poser. I would feel like a yellow belt stumbling in to a room full of ninjas, or someone from Fox News visiting the BBC.
I’ve seen this sort of thing on TV and in movies before and I’ve got to say, it seems pretty sick to me. Stuffing a cat into a box to give someone for Christmas? That’s really twisted and inhumane. Can you imagine? Thinking you’re getting a real present and then you open it up to find a fucking cat inside. That must be so horrifying and jarring. People really are sick. All I want for Christmas is literally anything other than you.
I’ve gotten a lot of worried emails from people wondering why the site hasn’t been updated as much recently. What I’m about to tell you will chill you to your core, but it’s a story that must be told. It’s the story of the time I was kidnapped and held captive by cats. It happened last week, on Thursday.
I was walking down the street, after having stopped by the local convenience store to buy an ice cream drumstick. Those things are pretty tasty. The owners son, Manuel, said some things to me in Spanish. I laughed and said, “Si,” then went on my way. Manuel is great. What a smart kid.
As I was enjoying my ice cream, humming an Eagles song, the bushes started to rustle around me. At first I blamed it on the wind, but I quickly realized that I was being stalked by something in the bushes. Finally I yelled, “I know you’re there, show yourself!” A large black cat emerged from the bushes, followed by several cats in camouflage. He stared at me with his big yellow eyes for what seemed like an hour before he said, “we’ve been expecting you.”
The next thing I knew I was waking up in a cave that was filled with kitty litter and stank like an old single woman’s house. My head was killing me and I realized that they had knocked me out and taken me to their secret lair. It was either that or their bathroom, I never did get a clear answer on that.
The large black cat identified himself as their leader, Steven. He told me that cats everywhere have been telling tales of the man who was turning humans against them. That’s why, he said, they were going to kill me. All of the other cats in the cave started laughing, and I was sure that I was done for.
That night, as I rested against the cave wall, bound hand and foot, I heard a quiet squeaking and felt a tiny nudge against my leg. I looked down to see a tiny rat. It looked up into my big human eyes, and I down into his little beady rat eyes, and we both understood that we shared a common enemy. It began feverishly gnawing away at the rope that the cats had used to tie me up, and within minutes I was free. It scampered back into a crack in the wall of the cave, stopping only to offer me a brief salute, and I sprinted out of the cave and into the night.
I ran for what seemed like miles, finally arriving home and collapsing on my bed. I knew then that I had to share my story with the world.
So you see, cats kidnapped me and kept me as their prisoner with the intention of silencing me once and for all. They wanted me gone so I would stop spreading the truth, but I’ll never stop.
You hear that you little rat eating bastards? I’ll never stop fighting for what’s right. I’ll never stop shining the flood light on your deceit and lies. Am I a hero? Oh, I don’t know. I guess I could be. Let’s just say that yes, I am a hero. A super hero, even. Yes, I like the sound of that.
Christmas is a time for happiness, forgiveness, and family. It’s a time when we celebrate the inherent goodness in all of us, and let our petty squabbles fall by the wayside. That, of course, goes for humans. We have souls and we’re capable of genuine emotion. Cats on the other hands are soulless black holes that devour all signs of joy and love around them. Why do you think they’re so light on their feet? It’s because souls are heavy, and without one you’re pretty free to hop around without much weighing you down.
Now, you’re probably thinking, “what about all that forgiveness talk?” What are you, a lawyer? Back the fuck off.
From what I can tell, this is supposed to be impressive. Let me just point out that I’ve been doing handstands for years now, but you won’t find a single damn picture of me and a circus magician performing the move online. Do you know why? Because it’s not fucking interesting.
Oh, but cats weren’t built to do handstands, they’ll say. Neither were humans! We just figured it out. Why is a cat doing it anymore impressive?
Imagine there are two kids in a classroom, and one is far more intelligent than the other. The smart kid manages complex math problems daily, while the idiot eats crayons farts here and there. Now imagine that the stupid kid somehow figures out one of the basic math problems that the smart kid solved years ago. Do you say fuck the smart kid, let’s throw the little moron a cupcake party? Apparently yes, you do.
In my experience, french people are a lot like cats. They’re lazy, pretentious, and they get pissed if you poke them a few times. I’m not sure whether this is an actual french cat, or if some twisted scientist took cat DNA and french DNA and mixed them together to create this striped douchebag, but I’m a little shaken by the thought of something so unbelievably annoying existing on Earth.
It’s as if this little Parisian fucker was created in some top secret lab whose goal it is to spawn the most blatantly douchey creatures on earth. Must be the same place they made Bill O’Reilly and Glenn Beck.