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!)

Did you know...

Not seen: stuffing tissues in your ears doesn't count.

...That many smart and cool people wear earplugs to clubs?

Thanks Psych100, for teaching me many interesting and important life lessons. I appreciate your subtlety.

 

Also, a cat's main function is to be cuddled, and cats' moving under bedsheets is a good metaphor for how your inner ear works. 

Happy Superbowl Sunday! For all you Green Bay fans out there, party hard tonight. (Why yes, I did google that just now.) For us less sport-enthused people, Glee's starting again tonight! So really, it's win-win for everyone.

I'd forgotten about this song until recently. I'd also forgotten how much I like John Mayer's music. Huh.

Who Says, by John Mayer