craveytrain

Cats are nast-e. There is just no getting around it. What’s worse is cat owners accept that type of behavior. No, they embrace it. I really blame them, not so much the animal.

Cats shit in your house. So do you, you say? Yes, but I flush mine down. There is what is called a “P” trap to keep sewer gases (shit smell, amongst other things) out of your house. I courtesy flush. I turn on vents. I light candles. I spray when there are foul odors. Litter boxes are the nastiest thing known to man. I don’t care if you just changed it, it still stinks. So we’ve established cats shit in your house and leave it there for you to clean up. That in itself should be nasty enough, but no, there is more.

What do you do when you leave the bathroom? I hope you wash your hands, you nasty bastard. I don’t care if you are busy, take the time to wash your hands or don’t get pissed off when I refuse to shake your pissed on hands. But I digress, cats, who have just shat and pissed in their litter box do what? Scratch their paws in dirty litter and come on out. That wouldn’t be so bad, except where do they go? Up on your counter, up onto your funiture, up onto you. I don’t care if you can see it or not, you have cat piss and shit on your counters, and there is no denying that.

So there is cat refuse in a box in your house, what do you do? You get it out, obviously. However, putting it in a bag, tying the bag and putting it into the kitchen trash is not sufficient. That needs to go outside. I don’t care where, but outside. I mean, really, do you go into your toilet aftwards, scoop it out, put it in a bag, tie it and drop it into the kitchen garbage? Of course not. Why? Cause it’s fucking nasty, that’s why. That’s shit! In your kitchen! Get it the fuck out!

Ok, I think we have covered the topic of refuse well enough. Let’s move on. Hair. It’s amazing the people I see with hair all over their clothes. When they see you notice it, they tell you “it’s my cat”. First off, no shit. Of course it’s your cat. If it wasn’t your cat, your pet is the least of your worries. I would be far more concerned about the pounds of furr you were shedding. Secondly, how does saying “it’s my cat” some how make it ok? If you had dirt all over your clothes but “it’s your washer” does that excuse it and make it socially acceptable? Hell no, you would get another washer. How is this any different? It’s dead hair, it’s nasty and it covers everything.

Speaking of everything, we come to the second reason cats aren’t to be allowed on the counter. Cause when I get cat hair in my food or on my counter where I prepare food, I flip out. What do you do when you go out to eat? You expect a clean table, more importantly you expect a clean food preperation area. Why do you make an exception in your home?

Speaking of food, cat food is some of the worst smelling stuff I have ever had the unfortunate experience to waft. Nothing is worse than the wet food. That stuff makes the shit in your garbage not smell so bad. Then there is the worst transgression of all in regards to food. What do owners do with the cat food can after the food has been dished out? They put it in the garbage can. Again, with the stinking up the of the trash. The trash smells bad enough already with human food and waste (notice I say waste, not refuse, you nasty bastards). Let’s add some foul smelling chicken heart soaking in gravy for months to the garbage. Why don’t you wash it out? Cause it smells bad and you don’t want to handle it any longer than you have to? Yeah, then putting it in the trash to let it get stagnant is a great idea. Who was the ad wizard who came up with that one?

In conclusion to this loosely grouped rant, I think owning an inside cat is a statement of someone’s hygiene (or lack there of). It shows their tolerance for foul smells, dirty clothes and home.

So, I had a lapse of redneckedness last night. I got home late after the softball game and was hungry. I decided to just make a sammich. Here is where it all went wrong.

My roommate and my girlfriend had both gone the store recently and both had picked up sammich meat. So I had an array of deli fresh cold cuts from which to choose. I looked into the fridge and found what I was looking for. I reached past the honey ham. I reached beyond the pepper crusted turkey. I reached behind the cajun seasoned roast beef and grabbed the bologna.

It doesn’t stop there. I needed cheese. Again, back to the fridge. I reach past the horseradish cheddar (which I normally use cause it’s damned good). I reach beyond the baby eye swiss. I reach behind the jalapeno muenster and grabbed Kraft Singles American.

Can you say ghetto? It’s actually amazing I didn’t fry it up on the spot.