For the most part I think that cats are total idiots. I think from the title of the website alone you probably get that. So, it’s not that I think cats know how to use computers, or that they’re going to use them to destroy the human race. It’s just that I’m not too comfortable with them even being given the opportunity to understand what computers are.
Sure, today they don’t know how to use the damn things, but given time they might be able to learn a thing or two just by clicking around. I just don’t need them going on message boards, or seeing my browsing history downloading programs. You know? That’s potentially unsafe behavior. I’m just trying to be a good guy here.
I’ve never understood this costume. Are there people out there who think that cats are sexy, so they thought that a woman dressed as a cat would be sexy? I shudder at the thought of some drunken costume designer 15 years ago sitting alone in his studio a month before Halloween, failed costume ideas strewn about the room at his feet.
Another year of princess and pirate costumes, he thinks to himself. If only I could come up with a game changer, something they’ll remember me by. Something provocative. Something sexy. His eyes slowly scan the room. A sofa, empty beer cans, a half-eaten pizza, some softcore pornography. Nothing sexy there. Just then he feels something brush up against his leg. It’s Muffin, his favorite cat and long time companion. Muffin looks up coyly then slinks across the room towards the window. She jumps up on to the windowsill and looks back over her shoulder as if to say, I know you were watching. It’s then that he realizes that he’s been holding his breath the entire time. Oh my god, he thinks to himself. That was the single most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. This is the costume I’ve been waiting for, the one they’ll remember me by. The sexy cat. I’ll be a millionaire!
WHAT? There are cat shows? Jesus. It makes sense to me that there would be dog shows, because dogs are awesome, but cat shows? It’s like holding an event to celebrate infectious diseases or shit. And I don’t mean “shit” as in “stuff.” I mean that I’m comparing a cat show to an event where the soul purpose is to showcase different types of feces.
Attention guests! Make sure you stop by the red booth within the next twenty minutes to get a free sample of liquid baby poo! Also, a special welcome to The Peterson family who traveled all the way from Louisiana to showcase their specimen of hand-collected whale shit!
Aside from the fact that cats lack the opposable thumbs necessary to effectively pick up and move chess pieces, they don’t strike me as a species that would really excel at the game. I can’t help but resent them for trying though. I think it’s the sheer audacity that gets me.
This little bastard thinks he can play chess, just like any human. Do you see me lounging in a sun spot on my front lawn licking my own balls? No. Because that’s what cats do, and I recognize that I don’t have the flexibility or the strikes left on my record to pull something like that off.
Look, cat. I feel like you’re missing the point of Halloween. It’s supposed to be about having fun, and this pathetic costume combined with that sour look on your face is pretty much the opposite of that. I know the idea of being forced to enjoy yourself is just excruciating, but come on.
Either wear a costume and really go for it, or don’t wear one at all. There’s no middle ground, and this whole “halfway there” thing you’ve got going on really just makes you look like a dick. I bet you’re just trying to play it cool so your other cat buddies don’t call you out for being a nerd.
“Oh I’m just a pumpkin, or whatever. I didn’t even want to dress up. Halloween is so lame, right you guys? Humans suck…Hey where are you guys going?”
Halloween is right around the corner, so I guess I should start bracing myself for a wave of shitty cat costumes. But come on, cat. I feel like you’re not even trying. I’m pretty sure Harry Potter didn’t even wear a wizard hat. The fact that you have to sit on the books to clarify who you are should be evidence enough that this costume is fully retarded.
Also, why are you looking at me like that? Do I have shit on my face or something? That’s the look old rich white women give me when I take their daughters out on my motorcycle. They don’t approve of me or my long hair and my rock music. They say I’m dangerous. They say I’m a bad influence. Whatever, man. I don’t play by your rules.
Photo submitted by reader Jen D.
What is it with cats? They imitate how humans have been acting for centuries, then become famous by doing a less advanced version of it. Do you think that I could become famous by taking a picture of myself going poop and putting it on the internet? No way. If anything I’d be put on a sex offenders watch list, and I’m pretty sure I’m way better at pooping in a toilet than this cat. But these little bastards figure out how to poo like humans and suddenly its the worlds greatest thing. Now I know how black people feel about being robbed of rock music. And jazz. And the blues. And rap. And raggae. And slang. And dreads. And afros. I’m tired now. Stupid cat got me all worked up.
Hey look, it’s armor for cats! I guess that’s cool, but let’s be honest here, some metal around your body isn’t going to help you that much. You’re still like 10 pounds. Armor or not, one swift kick to the side and you’ll sail like a football. Now that I think about it, bright gold armor is a terrible move. You’re an offensively reflective 10 pound fur ball wearing armor that is at least double your actual body weight. You’re easy to spot and easier to chase down. You may be evil masterminds, cats, but you’ve got a lot to learn about warfare. Fucking amateurs, you should all be embarrassed.
It’s hard to judge Russia. In pretty much every way, life in Russia is harder than it is in America. It’s cold, everybody is pale and un-attractive, their economy is shit, everything looks like it was built in the 60’s, and there’s the burden of hating all Westerners for being pigdogs. That sounds awful. No wonder they’re always wasted on cheap booze.
It just seems to me that if you woke up one day from a vodka induced coma and saw that a fucking cat was peddling cat food by mimicking your lord and savior, you would maybe do something about it. I guess it’s no wonder that cats chose Russia to hone their skills as human deity impersonators. Everyone is too damn busy being drunk, depressed, and cold to care. So, thanks Russia. Because of your indifference cats now know how to impersonate the most powerful human of all time.
I don’t know what makes me more sick, the fact that Russia is basically a cat terrorist training ground, or that Russian cat food I just ate. The sign was convincing! That cat is so charismatic.
War zones are usually a pretty shitty place to hang out, what with all of the bullets and attempted murder going on. There’s lots of things in war zones, like guns, camouflage, bombs, and tanks. You know what there’s not a lot of? Kittens. There’s not a lot of kittens in war zones. That’s because normal animals run in the opposite direction when they hear death coming. Not this little bag of sunshine. He’s sitting out in the open, just coaxing the soldiers to come out and pet him. “Come on out,” he says. “It’s nice out here.” Then BOOM. Dead.
The same thing happened to me earlier this week. This little baby was crawling around in the street outside my house. But I knew it was just trying to lure me outside. Yeah right, baby. I know you’re up to something. You must think I’m an idiot. I’m staying right here in my panic room where it’s safe.