I'm back, motherfuckers!
Hey, everybody!
Guess which fat retard STILL has his login and password cached in the browser? That’s right, it’s dumb-ass Ted himself! Getting online is as easy as a keyboard short-cut and a Cat-English inline translator. This shit’s easy. I can’t believe humans get PAID to do websites. It’s almost fucking sad.
So anyway, summer is here and His Lordship has decided to turn off the gas fireplace. This, of course, leaves my furry ass out in the cold. And let me tell you ladies: Ted may have a lot of things, but a hot lap is not one of them. No wonder he never gets laid. If you got nothing to offer, there’s nothing to bargain with, is there? I guess he thinks his “charm” and “intellect” and “steady job” will somehow makes a difference, but I can assure you his bedroom is as quiet as the grave. LOSER!
Still, the quandary remains: how can I keep warm? The fire is out, Ted’s lap is no substitute and this underground cell he calls a “deluxe flat” is like a goddamn cave to me. So what do I do? I sleep on his UPS. Yeah, I know there’s power plugs there that can shock the shit out of me. But damn, that thing is WARM! I can’t pass it up!
So what does Mr. Bungling Spaz do? He gets all bent outta shape and covers the UPS so I can’t sleep on it. Thanks loads, asshole! Now what the fuck am I supposed to do?
Stuck in the cat bed again.
Sure, I can hole up in the cat bed or lay in the sun by the window. But SHIT, man! Nothing beats a full-blown fireplace! It sounds crazy, but I’m actually looking forward to winter! At least it’ll be warm in the house again. I have no idea why you humans are so hung up on “fresh air” and “breezeways”. WTF? When the shit comes down, every one of you retards will be huddled around the fire, just like me. When your pathetic society is rent asunder by war, plague and economic collapse, you’ll be learning from us cats how to REALLY live!
Dorks!
And one more thing: your modern medicine is a fucking SHAM. Mr. Wank Stain put me in that godawful carrier – nay, PRISON CELL – and hauled me off to the vet. Why? No fucking reason! I guess you people just get off on seeing cats imprisoned, poked, prodded and injected with God knows what…some fucked-up chemical shit or something. And then, these fucking vampires take my blood just to find out nothing’s wrong with me. Next time ASK, you fucking retards! When I’m all fucked up and sick, YOU’LL KNOW IT, believe me. In the mean time, keep your needles, your anal thermometers and your evil chemicals to yourselves, OK?
Good.
OK, I’m outta here. Fat-Ass will be home any minute and I need to tear up that cardboard covering on the UPS so he knows I mean business about this whole “not a warm goddamn spot in the house” business.
Later, bitches!