The one where the guy takes a shit in the catbox and the girlfriend takes it to the vet to ask what the fuck is wrong with her cat?

That’s funny.

By: Me
Original Photo Credit: Kevin Steele 
License: Click for info

A good friend of mine used to say, “This is a very simple game. You throw the ball, you catch the ball, you hit the ball. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, sometimes it rains.” Think about that for a while.

— Coach “Nuke” LaLoosh, in Bull Durham

     Speaking of Rain…

     I am reminded of a man dubbed by Science as a “Quasi Supernormal Incremental Precipitation Inducer…”

     Rob McKeena was a miserable bastard and he knew it because he’d had a lot of people point it out to him over the years and he saw no  reason  to disagree with them  except  the  obvious  one  which  was  that  he  liked disagreeing with people, particularly people he disliked, which  included, at the last count, everyone.

   …

     It wasn’t that he was naturally predisposed to be so surly, at  least he hoped not. It was just the rain which got him down, always the rain.
     It was raining now, just for a change.
     It  was  a  particular  type  of  rain  he   particularly   disliked, particularly when he was driving. He had a number for it. It was rain type 17.

…

     He had read somewhere that the Eskimos had over two hundred different words for snow, without which their conversation would probably  have  got very monotonous. So they would distinguish between  thin  snow  and  thick snow, light snow and heavy snow, sludgy snow, brittle snow, snow that came in flurries, snow that came in drifts, snow that came in on the bottom  of your neighbour’s boots all over your nice clean igloo floor, the snows  of winter, the snows of spring, the snows you remember  from  your  childhood that were so much better than any of your modern snow, fine snow, feathery snow, hill snow, valley snow, snow that falls in the  morning,  snow  that falls at night, snow that falls all of a sudden just when you  were  going out fishing, and snow that despite all your efforts  to  train  them,  the huskies have pissed on.
     Rob McKeena had two hundred and thirty-one different  types  of  rain entered in his little book, and he didn’t like any of them.

…

     And as he drove on, the rainclouds dragged down the  sky  after  him, for, though he did not know it, Rob McKeena was a Rain God.  All  he  knew was that his working days were miserable and he had a succession of  lousy holidays. All the clouds knew was that they loved him  and  wanted  to  be near him, to cherish him, and to water him.

— Excerpt from Chapter 2 of Douglas Adams’
“So Long and Thanks for All the Fish,”
the fourth book in the not-so-aptly-named
Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy Trilogy

     It’s raining cats.

     No dogs, fortunately.

     Dogs tend to cause a lot more damage, mostly because they don’t land on their feet.

     Of course, neither do some cats…

     *shrug*

“Baby!”  I hear Tony calling out as he comes down the stairs to the bathroom where I was in the shower.

“Baby?!?!” He calls out again before bursting into the bathroom.

“What’s wrong?” I ask him reaching for the towel.

“Well, that damn cat.  That damn cat keeps on bothering me.”  He says shaking his head.

“What’d she do this time, baby?”  I asked, as this is quite a normal conversation in our combined domicile.

“Well, I went up there to see if the cheesecake was thawed out, and she was trying to get it.  I had to push her fat ass off the table just to get to it.  She went down swingin. It was like she was trying not to let me get it.”  He says, serious as can be.  “I think she’s got something against me.”

“No baby, she’s a psycho.  It’s not just you.  She attacks anybody and everybody.  She’s an equal opportunity hater.”  I try to mend his feelings.

“That’s not all she did, baby.”  He laments.

“Ok.  Tell me.”  I roll my eyes as I towel dry my hair.

“Then I decided I had to pee, and she followed me in there.” He goes on, “She jumped up on the toilet as soon as she saw me go in there.  And I shewed her down, so she jumped up on the sink and she started swatting my butt while I tried to pee.”

“She’s always hung out in the bathroom, Tony.  She’s not out to get you.”

“But the cat violated me.  She was grabbin my ass while I was in a vunerable position.  I was tryin to pee!”  He protests.

“Well, baby.  All I can tell you is to keep your back to her or she’s liable to swat somethin else.”

Women are catty.  Especially toward each other.  Especially when one woman has performed an act of woman on woman betrayal.  It is not something taken lightly and is most likely not to be forgiven. 

Over the last several years, I have emerged from spending most of my time locked in the house and being a slave to my life, kids, ex-husband… blah, blah, blah.    I was a young 17 when I married my first husband and didn’t experience the “meat market” type bar scene in which women are all in competition with one another to take some schmo home.  Pu-leaze. 

Then I toddled into life as a single, grown woman.  It was never my intention to pick up on any dude at all.  We (the Pirates) were always out, and if you saw one, the rest weren’t too far behind.  We generally were out together, as a group, on Wednesday and Friday for close to a year.   During that year I witnessed several acts of sluttiness on various levels and even fell victim once to a chick chasing my fella.  Of course, this chick (as it turns out) has extremely low self esteem and chases anything with a penis.

Even though I’m not single anymore and I have no desire to go back to yesterdrama… Damn if I don’t hold a helluva grudge toward someone in particular that recently not so directly crossed my path.  She was just in the area.  The fur on the back of my neck stood up and my claws came out and if I’m not mistaken, I think I even hissed a few times.  And they wanted me to come out and have a drink in the same bat bar at the same bat time??  Um.  No.  I’ll stay home and watch Burn Notice, thanks!

Expressing interest in a man that another woman has already expressed interest in is a huge no-no.  Even if you are sadly repugnant and shameless.  Wouldn’t you rather keep your girlfriend  (who you know will be there for you for life) than to stab her in the back in order to have a one night fling with a man who is going to talk down about you to his friends and other lovers who know about you?

Kissing another girl’s man when she goes to the bathroom is also a big no-no.  Seriously.  Do you think that his girl isn’t going to find out that you waited until she got up and excused herself from the table, before you not-so-eloquently shoved your tongue down his throat?  If the girl has any real friends, they will tell her about your skanky ways as soon as she gets back to the table.  In general, you will have lost a friend (maybe several) as well as becoming a laughing stock.  (I witnessed this scenario last spring… since I wasn’t involved, it was actually quite amusing).