CBT
11-08-2007, 09:33 AM
Almost 2 months ago a little fur ball siamese kitten showed up on my front porch and announced loudly (nonstop) that it had decided to adopt me. I gritted my teeth, pointed to my U.S. Border Patrol hat, and let it know where I stand on taking in freeloaders. "But I'm a helpless kitten" it seemed to be squalling (nonstop) in my general direction. So I figured I'll give it some coffee creamer on a saucer and maybe it will move along. Pfft, I don't know WHAT i was thinking, cause the next morning it was out on the back deck, squalling. Nonstop, of course. I figured the only way to shut this furry biotch up is to start throwing food down her filthy drinkhole until she passes out or explodes. Either way, there would be much needed silence. I suddenly realized how Rosie O'Donnels life partner must feel. All day. Every day. (nonstop) But I digress...
Last week me and Shawn C. from the boards here went up to the car show. We popped our hoods for the crowd to make "OH!" faces over and I walked over to the Bass Pro Shop and bought a nerf shotgun to amuse Meowza with. I named above mentioned nonstop squaler Meowza because that's all she did for the first month. Well now she is big enough to safely shoot in the face with a nerf shotgun. Again, I find myself thinking of Rosie O'Donnel for some reason. Eww. Anyway, last night it was decided that kitty was big enough for a flea collar. So we got one. And the fun started. Cats should be born with a flea collar already attatched cause by God the don't seem to like having one put on by "scary guy with U.S Border Patrol hat that keeps plinking foam darts off my forehead". Holy smokes, that was interesting. I was holding the cats rear legs with my right hand, its front legs with my left hand, and it was holding my right knee. With it's fangs. I think it was convinced there was a mouse under my kneecap and it wasn't about to stop chewing till it emerged. My helper, oblivious to the loss of blood I'm sustaining, says "I think the collar it too tight." I said, through raspy breath, "Can you get your finger under*cough* it*COUGH*?" "Yes.", she replies. I said, as my vision blurred from the onset of shock, "If you can get a finger under it, she can get her bottom jaw under it." So she, (this is critical) I thought, tightened it sufficiently. I let Meowza go as I passed out. I was revived when a Marlboro red was snapped and waved under my nose, quickly follwed by a cup of Folgers to the face. I had at least 6 SpongeBob bandages on my hands and right knee after that. 15 minutes later, it happened. I heard the most vile and deep and gutteral growl I have ever heard in my life, and the cat shot past and was crouched juuuuuuust out of clear view. I did what anyone would do when thier animal makes a sound like that. I put both hands over my crotch and yelled "What the Hell?!" I walked toward 'Meowzelbub' and as I get closer it looks like she is trying to give herself a trachiatomy. She was still slightly in the shadows of the hallway (this was about 10 last night) but I quickly realized she wasn't trying to cut herself a new foodhole, she was giving me the international "I'M CHOKING!" sign, which consisted of her holding her throat with one paw and flipping me off with the other. So I hit the hall light and see the REAL DEAL, she DID get her bottom jaw under the collar, and now it's stuck!! Oooooohhhhhhhhgrrreaaaattttthi sisgonnabefun I said to myself, still holding my crotch of course. Trust me when I saw getting that collar off was twice as bad as getting it on. My hands look like I tried to swipe the last Krispy Kreme donut on the face of this Earth from Rosie O'Donnels piehole. And lost.
Later, while still in post-op on the couch, Meowza von OmenSatan walked up and gave me a look like "I'm gonna leave a big steaming present for you on one of your favorite toys". So I covered my crotch again, I mean, what would you think she meant? This morning as I'm leaving for work, she was wolfing down her fourth Fruit and Grain "Now loaded wtih bran!" blueberry cereal bar, and was pointing the Corvette.
I am afraid to go home.
Last week me and Shawn C. from the boards here went up to the car show. We popped our hoods for the crowd to make "OH!" faces over and I walked over to the Bass Pro Shop and bought a nerf shotgun to amuse Meowza with. I named above mentioned nonstop squaler Meowza because that's all she did for the first month. Well now she is big enough to safely shoot in the face with a nerf shotgun. Again, I find myself thinking of Rosie O'Donnel for some reason. Eww. Anyway, last night it was decided that kitty was big enough for a flea collar. So we got one. And the fun started. Cats should be born with a flea collar already attatched cause by God the don't seem to like having one put on by "scary guy with U.S Border Patrol hat that keeps plinking foam darts off my forehead". Holy smokes, that was interesting. I was holding the cats rear legs with my right hand, its front legs with my left hand, and it was holding my right knee. With it's fangs. I think it was convinced there was a mouse under my kneecap and it wasn't about to stop chewing till it emerged. My helper, oblivious to the loss of blood I'm sustaining, says "I think the collar it too tight." I said, through raspy breath, "Can you get your finger under*cough* it*COUGH*?" "Yes.", she replies. I said, as my vision blurred from the onset of shock, "If you can get a finger under it, she can get her bottom jaw under it." So she, (this is critical) I thought, tightened it sufficiently. I let Meowza go as I passed out. I was revived when a Marlboro red was snapped and waved under my nose, quickly follwed by a cup of Folgers to the face. I had at least 6 SpongeBob bandages on my hands and right knee after that. 15 minutes later, it happened. I heard the most vile and deep and gutteral growl I have ever heard in my life, and the cat shot past and was crouched juuuuuuust out of clear view. I did what anyone would do when thier animal makes a sound like that. I put both hands over my crotch and yelled "What the Hell?!" I walked toward 'Meowzelbub' and as I get closer it looks like she is trying to give herself a trachiatomy. She was still slightly in the shadows of the hallway (this was about 10 last night) but I quickly realized she wasn't trying to cut herself a new foodhole, she was giving me the international "I'M CHOKING!" sign, which consisted of her holding her throat with one paw and flipping me off with the other. So I hit the hall light and see the REAL DEAL, she DID get her bottom jaw under the collar, and now it's stuck!! Oooooohhhhhhhhgrrreaaaattttthi sisgonnabefun I said to myself, still holding my crotch of course. Trust me when I saw getting that collar off was twice as bad as getting it on. My hands look like I tried to swipe the last Krispy Kreme donut on the face of this Earth from Rosie O'Donnels piehole. And lost.
Later, while still in post-op on the couch, Meowza von OmenSatan walked up and gave me a look like "I'm gonna leave a big steaming present for you on one of your favorite toys". So I covered my crotch again, I mean, what would you think she meant? This morning as I'm leaving for work, she was wolfing down her fourth Fruit and Grain "Now loaded wtih bran!" blueberry cereal bar, and was pointing the Corvette.
I am afraid to go home.