This weekend I was cleaning out my husband’s watch case, which I purchased for him because he has SIX MILLION WATCHES and apparently six million watches is THREE MILLION WATCHES too few.
He buys watches like I buy black shoes.
I own a lot of black shoes.
Anyway, look what I found in his watch case! A picture of me in college holding A DEMON!
Yes, too much makeup and look at my nails and there may be a dead dog in my giant hair, who can tell?
The back of the picture tells me that this is the outside cat “Baby” that my dorm-mates and I adopted in Texas one year.
I remember Baby. Baby was before I realized cats think I have dead birds in my boobage.
But there, cat people, who have been writing me nasty emails. I once liked cats.
Also, it’s not like I kicked a real cat, unlike how I kick pigeons, and it’s not like I’m stabbing cats, unlike how I stab pigeons, and it’s not like I’m setting cats on fire, unlike — you know what? I’ll just stop there before the pigeon lovers start taking me too seriously again.
Besides, I lost my butane torch.