My Cat Is Evil

My cat Issey is 12 years-old. He is under the gross misconception that he is a kitten, however. True to a cat's nature, he prefers to sleep all day, preferably on a pile of dark clothing, and create havoc all night long. ALL FUCKING NIGHT LONG.

Sultan and I revel in the fact that we do not want any more children. Having to go back to that baby phase, with the gooey food, gooey diapers, and gooey boogery drooly face is enough to make my stomach turn. If you are currently experiencing or cherishing (liar) this phase, all I can say is that I served my time twice when my girls were babies. And I'm not planning on going back. My cat is currently depriving me of sleep in a way the brings me back to that newborn phase. I am going to make this pussy into a throw rug if I can ever catch him.

My male cat, Issey, named after the designer Issey Miyake (hey, I was hanging out with primarily gay men and I worked at Neiman Marcus when I got him so what do you expect?!), finds a multitude of ways to keep us awake at night. No matter how diligently I cover objects I think might tempt him, he still finds things to fuck with. His number one temptation is paper or plastic. If you have 3 inches of a loop handled bag from Macy's exposed, he will rhythmically paw at this till one of us whispers harshly, "Issey!! Shut the fuck up!" He will paw at the side of the dresser. He will paw at the mirrored closet doors. He will paw at my head. If the admonishing doesn't work, one of us stumbles like a drunk to try and chase him out. Shutting the door makes him howl worse than Sanjaya on American Idol. One night I thought I'd be clever and block our bedroom door with a laundry basket and two large suitcases. That way the little fucker has no access to the door, right? Hercules Pussy knocked that shit over in about 5 minutes and resumed yowling and pounding on the door with his clawless paws.

How could a little putty-tat possible make so much noise you ask? Would you care to stop by for a sleepover? He even used to leave me the fuck alone when Sultan was gone. (I'm his "momma cat" because I was his owner before I met Sultan. He lets Sultan know he is dominant over him. Like a little dominatrix kitty.) Last night Sultan was away on business but Fuck Nuts decided at about 3am it was time to play. I look like I was shit through a keyhole today, as my dad would say. I have mainlined my Starbuck's Verona roast but I am still incoherent and worthless.

I don't want this cat to die. As you know with my experience with animals who bite the dust, I don't deal well. I just want him to mellow out a bit, maybe suffer a mild stroke to slow him down a bit. (But no lack of bladder control. I can't deal with pissing and shitting all over my house. I still have a 5 year-old who wants me to wipe her ass when her "poop is to stinky to wipe".) If that sounds evil or selfish, try sleeping--or rather NOT SLEEPING--in my bed. Sultan and I bought a wonderful king-size mattress with a luxurious pillow-top pad that I love to sleep on. I can't even enjoy my spacious bed with super-soft Egyptian cotton sheets and silk comforter because of Sir Fuckface.Most guys would say losing sleep over a little pussy is a good thing....not in my house. This pussy is pure evil.