Ramblings of A Cat Addict

 

This week, A Cheeto Named Larry and I have decided to pull a Freaky Friday kind of switch on you. She's posting on my site, and I've hijacked hers. I'm always delighted by whatever she has to say...but then again, I actively seek out jokes about things like pooping and farting... Since this post contains neither of those, and I'm still encouraging you to read it, that says something.

Don't forget to leave a comment below because I want Larry to feel like royalty...and like I'm really popular...Enjoy!

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Recently I asked CF Winn to guest write for my site, and she graciously agreed. Plus I totally put her on the spot. I was like the kid that stands there and pokes his mother: “Mama. Mama. Mama. Will you? Huh? Mama. Will you? Huh? Mama.” Just like that. That was me.

The next conversation went something like this:

CF Winn: Well would you like…(to follow me on Twitter)

Me: To be a guest writer on your site? You bet I would!

CF Winn: Well, actually, I was just going to…(see if you wanted to follow me on Twitter)

Me: You don’t have to beg. Really, I’ll be happy to do it.

CF Winn: Um…oook…well…(are you fucking crazy??)

Me: This is crazy! We’ve become so close I can already finish your sentences. I’ll have a post for you soon!

That’s how this whole thing began. And I was pretty excited. But then, after a while, I really started to worry about writing this post. For one, what if I taint her site with all my cuss words? I was once told that I must not be very intelligent if I can’t write or speak without cursing. I told that lady, “Hey F-you lady”, because she sounded like big fat stupid dumdum, and I just wasn’t going to stoop down to her level. 

Writing for yourself is one thing, but writing for someone else can really put the pressure on. And that’s when you find out what you’re made of. I wasn’t very impressed with what I was made of. I sat down to write this post at least a dozen times. Here is just a small handful of the thoughts that pulled me away from my mission:

1.       It’s 3 o’clock. Time for wine.

2.       If I don’t catch up on the Young and the Restless, the DVR will start dumping episodes. This is serious.

3.       Ooh…a butterfly…

4.       Did that dog just burp?

5.       That wine is not gonna drink itself.

6.       How did Dr. Frasier Crane ever stay in business for more than a week?

7.       If I had to choose between him and Niles, I’d go with Daphne.

8.       I need to pull those weeds. And maybe get a glass of wine.

9.     (chin resting in hand)  I really wish I could meet Big Foot.

10.   There just aren’t enough funny cat videos out there.

     So as you can see, it’s been rough. But I finally pulled myself together, put on my big girl panties, and sat down to discover the words flowed freely from my fingertips like, when they open the gate for pigs, how all those pigs run out real fast. It was like that. 

 

 

But as the words came out, I realized…this is just a post about a post. What kind of asshole writes a post about a post? This shit isn’t even legit, but I’m already committed. How do I turn what I have into an actual meaningful post that people will truly want to read?

Then it hit me! By adding a cat video. Everybody loves cat videos.

But then I think, that’s dumb. CF Winn is not a cat person, therefore she would not enjoy the video. But as I was contemplating all this, it did remind me of a story that I thought she would appreciate…

Many years ago I was the crazy cat lady. I’m in recovery now, but once an addict, always an addict. Anyhow, I had a cat named Steve. Steve was of a very mischievous nature and often found himself caught up in rather precarious positions. Like the time he was playing with the fishing lure, got hooked in the paw and then ran around the house dragging the fishing pole behind him. It was bloody mayhem. But that’s not the story.

This is the story.

Steve was always getting into shit and he really made me mad because he would always get away before I could spank him. Well one evening, I’d laid down to go to sleep and heard a terrible noise like “Kghhhhh….”, and it got louder. “KGKGHHHHH”. Say it with me: “KGGGGHHHKKHH”. I’m all, what the fuck… 

Then Steve starts ripping and tearing through the house, over my chest, through the bathroom, and back into the living room, all the while making guttural noises unlike anything I’ve ever heard. 

 

While I was extremely curious what was going on, I was lazier than I was curious, so I figured if he was having some kind of seizure, well it was nice knowing ya Steve. I settled back into my pillow.

Now, I said I was the crazy cat lady, which means I had multiple cats. Another cat, Sooie, started to do the same thing Steve was doing. “KGKGHHHH”, and then took off running like a bat out of hell. There was some sort of epidemic going on it seemed. 

I peered out into the shadows of the living room, and I see my third cat, Larry, batting something around. To me, in the dark, it looks like a turd. But when Larry bites it, he suddenly freaks the fuck out too. I could no longer deny that I had to get my ass out of bed because now all three cats have evidently bitten something poisonous and are all shooting through the house faster than those pigs flew out of my fingertips. They’re all going different directions, all going KGKGHHHHH, and it’s just a general sense of chaos at this point because I don’t know what kind of enemy I’m dealing with.

WELL.

When I got up and turned on the light, there in the middle of the floor, lay a very dead, but still lethal…

…wait for it…

….jalapeno pepper.

Upon further inspection, I found the refrigerator door to be wide open, all my peppers spread out onto the kitchen floor, and a half-empty can of cat food littering the scene. And I thought….yeah….karma mother fuckers.

So as you can see, I ended up turning a post about a post into a post about a post about a cat who got what was fucking coming to him. And I think that’s something we can all appreciate.





 

When I'm not MMA street fighting, I'm saving kittens from sinking battleships. I once humanized a cheeto to the extent that I began the blog A Cheeto Named Larry. Then one day I got pissed, deleted it, and threw Larry in the trash. I've hated my own fat guts ever since, so I spend everyday making up for it with the new and improved A Cheeto Named Larry. Writing is the only thing that matters. Besides sleeping, eating, kittens. But not eating sleeping kittens. That would be upsetting.

Journey McGuire is the owner of http://acheetonamedlarry.com/ and contributor for http://humoroutcasts.com/.