11 Points has been keeping me amused this morning. It all started with “11 Awful Shows Fox Has Aired Right After The Simpsons.” Many of which I remember – and Oliver Beene wasn’t THAT bad. I mean…it’s television. War at Home was excruciatingly horrible and terrible on every single level. The writing. The performances – and the plot lines were often just borderline disgusting, morally-speaking (again, though, television…).

Then he described some 99-cent sexiness. Or as I call it, “Date Night shopping list.”

Things that are weird to do alone I clicked on, just to see how many I disagreed with (ie, do all the time). It starts out with the usual (going to movies) but then gets kinda funny (lamaze class).

And did you know, The Monopoly mascot’s original name was Rich Uncle Pennybags. I cheat, every time.

He talks about the 80s, Monopoly, doesn’t like turning 30 and makes random pop culture references. We’d get along.

Oh wait, nevermind, we wouldn’t!

Cats. Buying a cat is a serious statement. I’ve never bought one.  Cats are an antisocial animal (versus dogs, who are the ultimate social animal). Ha! Not at all true. Some cats might be, but that is because, like humans, they have personalities. Unlike dogs, which are easily manipulated slobber machines. Cat allergies are extremely common. So is AIDS. Too soon? Too not at all funny? And there’s a huge, widely-recognized stigma about cat ownership (women who own cats are spinsters, men are creepy). Psh, I’m a nymphomanaic, and all the rich, brilliant, wonderful men I’ve dated had a cat or two. Also, neither of those things are true.

So when you choose to get a cat, you’re acknowledging all of those things and saying, “I don’t care.” I almost said, “Cats chose me!” But then…yeah. Nevermind.

I don’t trust cat people. And it’s not even because of the reasons I listed above (although those contributes). It’s because cats are assholes. I know there are occasional exceptions to this, but: Dogs run up and love when you pet them, a cat plays hard to get. I used to love turning down my road, two or three cats would come shooting out of various yards up the block, racing towards the sound of me pulling into the driveway. It’s card to think of something soft and furry sleeping on your face as an “asshole.” Plus, have you ever gotten high and played with a kitten?

So when I see a cat person, I see someone who doesn’t have the emotional development to be in a real, reciprocated relationship… it’ll always be an unhealthy chase or conquest to earn minor tokens of affection. Or they’re emotionally mature and secure, hence the ability to be OK with a companion of equal independent alrightness, rather than the abject co-dependency of dog ownership. The person’s compulsively lonely and desperate for you to fill the void, and fill it ASAP. *Insert joke about filling my void.*

I am also loving the King of Crayons.


Ha ha! Beep! Beep beep!

I need this to match my R2D2 hurbie curby.


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