Catikaze

I found out yesterday that I ended up winning some award about a blog that is potentially on fire and might spread fire to other blogs and burn down the whole Internet so I'm not sure if I was supposed to take it as a flattering "your blog is awesome" or a "your blog is a potential hazard to the Internet and firefighters will arrive shortly to hack through your door, destroy your computer and stomp on you until you realize how dangerous your fire blog is.". Needless to say I thought this was totally awesome that my blog might be a potential hazard to the Internet and I'm half contemplating dousing it with gasoline just to see it burn faster until I realized that the rules on the award is saying seven things about yourself and I'm all like, "Fuck it, I'm lazy."

So you know what I'm going to do instead Rachel? Not do it, because I'm lazy. And it'd be hard for my tiny little fingers to type out seven things about myself that others probably wont find interesting and will throw empty beer cans at me because I wasted their time. And you know what you can do with empty beer cans, Rachel? Nothing, because they are empty and the beer is already gone.

Instead, I'm going to tell you all about the time this morning when a small cat used itself as a suicide bomber and tried to take me out.

Yeah, that really happened to me this morning.

My job, that feeds me and clothes me and makes sure I have money for shinny things, has me get up at the stupid hours of 4:00am so I can catch a stinky, old man smelling bus just so I can get to work on time around 6:00am. Yeah, it's that long of a bus ride and yes it literally smells like an old man took a piss on the bus. Every. Dang. Morning.

As I was stumbling out of my apartment building still half asleep to catch the bus that picks up two feet from my apartment I heard this god awful "Meow, meow, meow, mother fucking meow!" from above my head and looked up to see a cat screaming at me. What was it screaming? I don't know. I don't speak fucking cat. It was probably offended that I had thumbs and could punch things and use guns and just decided that it was going to hassle me over it.

I guess the cat didn't like the fact that I was ignoring it's cat-calls and decided it was going to take it's taunting up a notch by throwing itself off the third storey balcony it was screaming at me from. But, I didn't know this until a falling cat landed half a foot in front of me and it looked extremely pissed off that it missed and then took off like a bat up the nearest tree. I was left with a total, did that just fucking happen to me? Did a cat try to bomb me from above and fail?

This is why getting up at ungodly hours is so unhealthy for people. You'll almost get bombed by cats.