Originally Posted by youngwerther

I can't wait to have a girlfriend.

Originally Posted by sixxx(sic)six

What exactly denotes a cat's ethnicity?

Originally Posted by youngwerther

Do any of you have a special someone who isn't a someone? I do. Her name is abagail, and she is my calico (not zydeco!) cat. You may think that abagail and I get along beautifully just because she can't understand my true nature like humans can, but nothing can be further from the truth. Abagail is a greedy, obese and narcissistic animal. She cannot lie with me peacfully at night for more than an hour, when her bloodlust overcomes her and she attacks my feet to show that there can never be peace between us.
If I was your cat, I'd attack your feet as well. Only because secretly, I'd be plotting to amputate you.
She is a very thorny cat, and despite my protests my parents will not declaw her. Make no mistake people: I hate my cat. I'd hate you, too.

I hate the way her excrement smells like moldy cheese Hmm...I think it smells more like the food you feed it. Meat and bone marrow.
I hate the way she sheds all over my trenchcoat How gawth of you!
I hate the way she assumes I've forgotten when she's attacked me earlier Hmm...I don't think animals forget things like that. You're probably a terrible person and she senses that. Why else would she attack you? I do believe animals have better instincts and can pick up on a rotten personality such as yours.
I especially hate the way my parents seem to like her more than me

My parents have this horribly misguided little charade going on where Abagail and I are supposed to be "close" or something. I guess they think it's cute that the "children" of the family sleep in the same bed and spend the evening together in the same room. "At least Werther has someone to talk to as he's in his room alone these dark nights" they must think. But to me Abagail is the outlet on which I vent all of my inner hatreds. On those nights in between reading and writing poetry by candlelight, I pick Abagail up and hold her in front of my face. She is my captive audience as I tell her, and only her, what I have in store for the outside world. She hisses as if she cannot bear my prophecies, but I persist and keep her in place.

It is so oddly amusing to see her walk in front of my parents and let them pick her up, unable to divulge to them what horrible things I've told her.

I can't wait to have a girlfriend.