Hey, you ever heard of cats?
I have. I’ve got two of them, and they each crap in a box next to my damn washing machine.
One of my cats is named Ben Franklin. That sick bastard likes to sniff my jello. That ain’t no figure of speech, either. He literally does sniff my jello.
Now Ben Franklin’s got a new idea. At 5:15 in the morning, he enters our bedroom and begins yowling for no reason whatsoever. Trust me, this is exactly as amusing as it sounds.
We try to ignore him so he doesn’t think he runs the house, but let’s face it, cats are arrogant pricks. They think they’re superior to the good Lord himself. (They’re in for a rude awakening when judgement day comes and they find themselves suffering for all eternity in the searing flames of cat hell.)
So there we are, trying to sleep through the piercing cries of our cat in the early morning hours, but he keeps pushing it. He jumps up onto the bed, and reaches over to my wife’s nightstand and starts batting at the lamp, trying to knock it over. Now something must be done, so she smacks him. Unfazed, he bats at the lamp again.
The best part of the story? He’s doing it for no particular reason. When we do wake up, he casually lopes out of the room and retires to his corner of the house to go to sleep for the next 13 hours. Ben Franklin is an ungrateful pig of a cat.
So anyway, long story short, we’ve got a free cat if anybody wants one.