I Hate Cats . . .

. . . and they hate me. You don't believe me? Allow me to regale you with some tales of asshole cats in my recent asshole cat history:

1. I'm with a buddy in St. Louis, and he says he has to feed his mother's cats before we go out. When we get there, the two cats seemed friendly enough. However, as soon as they were fed, the sons of bitches start hissing at me, and I'm talking hair on their backs standing up, scare your pants off hissing. What a couple of selfish pricks, right?

2. I was dating a girl with a blue, really cool looking cat named, oddly enough, Mr. Blue. He was the biggest cat I ever saw, and I don't mean fat, I mean long. Legally, It is probably the closest she could have been to having a live panther in her house, and he had all the ferocity of a gull-darned panther, well towards me anyway. The little turd of a cat was always darting out from somewhere trying to attack me, so I'd get all on edge, and I swear the rat-bastard could sense it - and he'd come at me more. Maybe he also sensed that I wasn't into his owner anymore. I swear, you look into this cat's eyes, and it's like he knew things. I don't hate cats because they're dumb, because they're actually quite smart. I hate cats because they're assholes.

3. My roomy has a black, really skittish cat who, because of our landlord's anti-pet policy, has to be hidden up in his bedroom at all times like Anne Frank. However, lately he's been exploring more, and for some reason he loves to hang out under my bed. Maybe he sees no danger of being crushed by any hanky-panky, as this has been a very slow August for The Gancer. Could it be that he knows that black cats crossing one's paths creates bad luck, and because cats hate me, this little fuck-stick is milling around me to surround me with a doom cloud of crap luck? Well, it's working. In any event, it's weird when I sit down at my computer to, let's say, goof on Cherry for sharting himself, and I see a creepy black cat run over to the door for me to be let him out. Also, the other day I'm walking down the hall and he paws me in the leg. My Roomy is there, and he says that this is what he does when he wants My Roomy to pet him. I informed him that this cat never lets me pet him. To this he furrows his brow, thinks for a moment, and says, "Yeah, I don't know why he did that to you."

I will say, there is some precedent that may speak to why this particular cat may hate my guts. One night, when My Roomy wasn't around, me and Another Roomy were desperately trying to get him out of that bedroom, because the landlord was coming over to look at some light fixtures. Trying to pick him up was greeted with hisses, and he was wise to any attempts to shoo him in any direction to lock him into another room. I remember standing on the bed with a broom, trying to shoo him towards my other roomy, and thinking, "This animal was not meant to be domesticated."

It's true, folks. On the whole, dogs seem happy to see you, while a cat will barely look up from licking his balls as you walk through the door. You may think your cat loves you, but he is merely making the best of the situation. He'd rather be out in the alleys, sniffing out some cat-poon than sitting in your lap watching Hope Floats. Don't get me started on even crummier pets, like iguanas or komodo dragons. Yeah, there are no iguana pieces of ass out there your pet lizard would rather be riding. He much prefers the dorm room he calls home, with dip-shits listening to 311 and blowing bong-hits into his two by one foot cage. Incidently, tell me another blog where you'll see the phrase "iguana piece of ass?"

Hey, Seven Readers, first off, sorry this post was so darn long. Secondly, tell me an animal, whether a species or one in particular, that you'd like to punt with a nice, high leg kick like Reggie Roby, or tell me an animal that hated you.