My Goddamn Cat
Here is a shocker. I own a cat. (see above)
My cat whose legal name is Violet (but can also be referred to as Kittymuffins, Kitty Mitty, Princess Kittyface, Lil KittyMitty McMuffins, and monkeybutt) has started to leave threatening messages for me while I am at work. I thought I should let you all know in case I turn up dead in a ditch somewhere in the next few days.
I get home every night from work at around the same time, partially because I have to get to my neighborhood by 7 PM if I plan to find legal parking but also because I know if I am not home by a certain time to feed that furry feline whore, she will use her claws to scratch "Die Bitch" into my hardwood floors.
In her typical stuck-up cat fashion, she likes to toy with my heart to trick me to do her bidding. She is all cutesy meowface for the first 60 seconds I am home. Snuggle, purr, mew, repeat. That is of course until I get within a 3 foot radius of her food bowl, then she begins clawing her way out of my grip with the intensity of a jaguar. I have to drop her stupid little body onto the kitchen floor to avoid getting my face clawed off and so I can use my free hands to scoop her overpriced fish shaped food chunks into the metal bowl for her to devour.
Then, I wait for the face...sigh.
This is the face that she always gives me before she eats to routinely let me know how disappointed she is in my ability to provide for her. She walks up the bowl, sniffs, then turns around and looks up at me like, "This is the best you can do?" I can almost feel her choking down her disappoint as she turns back around and begins to nibble on the apparently sub-par food choice.
How did I get so lucky?