FUCK YOU CAT.

This cat thinks you're stupid

Tue, 23 Feb 2010 21:09:37 -0500

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.

This makes me uncomfortable.

Thu, 03 Dec 2009 04:25:00 -0500

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.

I've got big plans for you.

Thu, 03 Dec 2009 04:13:00 -0500

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!

Stew! Stew! It's Good For You!

Thu, 03 Dec 2009 03:57:46 -0500

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.

Oh fuck you, Santa.

Tue, 24 Nov 2009 04:46:13 -0500

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 made it. Thank God.

Fri, 20 Nov 2009 04:55:00 -0500

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.

You're not invited.

Fri, 20 Nov 2009 04:28:54 -0500

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.

Rip off.

Tue, 10 Nov 2009 04:40:58 -0500

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.

I hate your hat.

Fri, 06 Nov 2009 04:16:00 -0500

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.

Get off of the computer you asshole.

Wed, 04 Nov 2009 05:42:26 -0500

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.

Do not want.

Fri, 30 Oct 2009 03:01:50 -0400

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!

If I could punch an idea, this would be the one.

Tue, 27 Oct 2009 04:39:23 -0400

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!

Never gonna happen, cat.

Tue, 27 Oct 2009 04:10:26 -0400

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.

Oh boo hoo.

Thu, 22 Oct 2009 05:08:17 -0400

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?”

You suck at Halloween.

Mon, 19 Oct 2009 04:30:00 -0400

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.

Stop acting like me!

Mon, 19 Oct 2009 00:06:33 -0400

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.

Cats are terrible strategists.

Thu, 15 Oct 2009 04:48:37 -0400

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.

Way to go, Russia.

Wed, 14 Oct 2009 04:43:19 -0400

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.

Very clever, cat. Very clever indeed.

Tue, 13 Oct 2009 04:07:00 -0400

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.

Superman loves cupcakes.

Mon, 12 Oct 2009 05:28:21 -0400

Nice costume, chubby. I find your choice to be a bit ironic. There is absolutely nothing “super” about you, except for maybe the size of your gut. I would almost feel bad for you except for the fact that you clearly did this to yourself. But hey, who knows. I guess anything is possible. Maybe you’re one of those totally unimpressive retarded looking superhero’s that everybody underestimates, like The Green Hornet or Steven Hawking.