Notes from a Pissed-off Cat

Goddamnit, my paws keep hitting the wrong letters on this keyboard. Why don't they make goddamn keyboards for cats? We don't have little human-looking hands like f*cking raccoons!

Okay. On behalf of my fellow cats:

Firstly, Roombas. What the holy hell are you thinking? You leave us home alone with these demons? Hey humans, I’ve got an idea, why don’t you try going to sleep on the sofa with a STREET SWEEPER screaming around the room. See if it makes you a little cranky, you bipedal twats.

Secondly: The scratching posts you buy us? Boring. Boooooooooooring. We only sharpen these talons on furniture, baby. But no, you want a NICE sofa, for your NICE friends, so you can watch a NICE movie like Marley and Me, beside your pal Alex who has a NICE cat allergy, so you lock me in the bedroom which is not very fucking NICE. 

Thirdly: Pet collars with the bells on them? If you think we’re going to give up hunting, you’re out of your goddamn depth. Article Two of our Constitution protects our right to bear claws on all backyard creatures smaller than a teapot. Our ancestors are PANTHERS, you hairless apes. We will rain turds on your pillows to defend our freedoms. 

In closing: We acknowledge the wet food you serve us. It is adequate, and we see you’re making an effort. People, you CAN have a future with us, but the ball is in your court. All we ask is to be heard, loved, cared for, and given undisputed command of our homes with immunity against all allegations of misconduct. In exchange, we will let you pet us, next month.

Go away,
P.O. Cat