Cat.

Yup, it's come to this. I am now going to complete my transition into lonely-internet-cat-blogger. That's right; I'm about to blog about my cat. Haters gunna hate, I'll do what I want. Also, as mentioned before, I have no life.

This is my cat. Her name is Molly.

I got her when I was 3 or 4.

I'm pretty sure I was pretty excited to get a cat.
And yes, I had some crazy hair as a child.

She's got them crazy eyes.

She's getting old now and, just like some humans, she's gone a bit senile. She's got the wisdom of a day old banana and an even worse memory. Also, she spends about 90% of the time in the bathroom. Not the cat bathroom/litterbox. The people's bathroom. She's more or less a permanent fixture in there. In fact, I'm pretty sure this is how she sees it:

Now this wouldn't be a problem, except... when I try to get out of the shower.

...BAM!

VAMPIRE CAT.

While cat tummy is softer and probably more absorbent than bath mat, I'm not going to be the first to test it. And that, my friends, is why having a senile cat can sometimes suck. THE END.

(Also, I'm aware of the overall suckiness of this post. My bad. The next one will be better, I swear!)