Hate me if you must...
I know I complain about this every other week, but I'm just so furious, that I feel the need to rant once more.
I fucking HATE my cat.
I don't think any of you could grasp the intensity of my rage towards this animal.
At first it was amusing. My cat's a sex addict - har har.
But no, he's a sly demonic deviant sex FIEND!
All of you know he's arthritic. He's probably cancerous, or has some equally debilitaing illness. He'll be 14 or 15 years old this year and he's shedding like a maniac.
I can deal with all of that. I can deal that he drools, that he mults, that his annoying meow scares me out of sleep at ungodly hours of the night, but messing with my clothes is the last straw.
It's not that it's my clothes. It's not that it's my son's clothes. It's that this mongrol of a feline develops these super-cat powers and is able to literally climb to the highest points in my room or the deepest points of my hamper to grab my clothes.
Okay, so he's an acrocat (heh, acrobat, acrocat... you get it).
No - it doesn't end there.
I recently noticed that it wasn't so much the amount of clothing he was getting, it was -what- he was getting.
He keeps taking the same articles of clothing. That, and it's only when they're freshly washed. Which is shitty, because once he rapes them, I have to watch off their shame, and he's at it again!
Honestly, I don't have time to do laundry every day.
I'd like to wear my nice clothes (did I mention it's only my nice stuff?), and I'd like to be able to fold my clean clothes at my leisure rather than pack them away into some impenetrable hole in my backyard.
I don't know what the hell to do. I have half a mind to just put the thing out of it's misery, and mine as well.
I don't think I could do that in good conscious, but I don't think it would be such a bad thing if the ol'man passed on at some point in the near futre...as long as it's not on any of my clothes.
I fucking HATE my cat.
I don't think any of you could grasp the intensity of my rage towards this animal.
At first it was amusing. My cat's a sex addict - har har.
But no, he's a sly demonic deviant sex FIEND!
All of you know he's arthritic. He's probably cancerous, or has some equally debilitaing illness. He'll be 14 or 15 years old this year and he's shedding like a maniac.
I can deal with all of that. I can deal that he drools, that he mults, that his annoying meow scares me out of sleep at ungodly hours of the night, but messing with my clothes is the last straw.
It's not that it's my clothes. It's not that it's my son's clothes. It's that this mongrol of a feline develops these super-cat powers and is able to literally climb to the highest points in my room or the deepest points of my hamper to grab my clothes.
Okay, so he's an acrocat (heh, acrobat, acrocat... you get it).
No - it doesn't end there.
I recently noticed that it wasn't so much the amount of clothing he was getting, it was -what- he was getting.
He keeps taking the same articles of clothing. That, and it's only when they're freshly washed. Which is shitty, because once he rapes them, I have to watch off their shame, and he's at it again!
Honestly, I don't have time to do laundry every day.
I'd like to wear my nice clothes (did I mention it's only my nice stuff?), and I'd like to be able to fold my clean clothes at my leisure rather than pack them away into some impenetrable hole in my backyard.
I don't know what the hell to do. I have half a mind to just put the thing out of it's misery, and mine as well.
I don't think I could do that in good conscious, but I don't think it would be such a bad thing if the ol'man passed on at some point in the near futre...as long as it's not on any of my clothes.