I should have a PhD. in this stuff. I'll tell you why. I've developed a theory that explains how I see the world. It's called The Unified Theory of Bullshit. It sounds complicated, but it's not. Basically, anything that I don't approve of is bullshit. Since I'm a cat, the world revolves around me. If I don't like something, then it's bullshit and can be safely ignored. I consider lots of things to be bullshit; I'll give you some examples:
- Not getting my neck scratched when exactly I want? Bullshit.
- Not being fed according to my precise internal clock? Bullshit.
- Commenting on my perceived girth? Insensitive bullshit. I am strong and healthy. Not obese.
- Not cleaning my eyes out at precisely 8 a.m. and 8 p.m.? Bullshit.
- Not giving me my petroleum jelly snacks anymore because the vet says it's not good for me? Bullshit. Who is the expert on me? That's right. ME.
- My favorite treats are Greenies and they need to be on hand at all times. If they're not? Bullshit.
- If I am getting sick of one flavor of Greenies and you don't immediately change to another flavor? Bullshit. You must be attuned to my every wish and desire.
- Paying attention to another cat and not me? That's total bullshit.
- Not changing the litter box when I demand you to? That's not only bullshit for me, but problems for you. I can't help it if I have the bladder of an Arabian racehorse. You need to buy a stronger scooper. Period. Cheap plastic ones break under the weight of my masculine waste. Metal works better. (*Editors note: Apologies for the uncouth details).
- Reality, the very fabric of our existence which allows us to function in a cruel and random universe? You guessed it, bullshit. If reality doesn't conform to my exact wishes, then life itself is indeed bullshit.
I hope that clears things up. I tend to use the phrase bullshit quite a bit and didn't want to confuse my audience. Now you understand why I say it so much. If you don't understand, then I will just say that you are bullshit.
Ok, so I have to tell you how I came to live with my Meem and Peem. When I was just a baby (about a month old, Meem thinks), some jerk dumped me and my siblings into a field outside Buffalo, NY. I don't remember much before that. (Peem thinks I hatched from an alien pod. I don't know. Maybe). I got separated from my siblings, but somehow I saw this guy standing by the side of the road. So I yelled at him and he picked me up. This was my Peem's brother-in-law, Scott. He was working on a road crew. He said he saw a hawk circling the field while a big mower was mowing it and he thinks my siblings got eaten by a hawk - or run over by the mower. He looked for them but all he found was me.
I made Scott take me back to his hotel room. He didn't have any food for me to eat, so I yelled at him. I kept yelling until he took me to Agway and asked the girl what to feed a kitten. I yelled at her too. She told him the right food to get, so I know she understood what I said, even though she was just a woman. I had to stay in Scott's truck during the week while he finished working, so I got used to vehicles - I like going for rides. Riding in cars is cool. I also like watching cars go by from my tower. Cars are cool. But back to my story.Scott finally took me home that weekend. Scott had a big, dumb dog that almost ate me. He picked me up and I fit inside his mouth. Now that was real bullshit. I didn't come to planet Earth to get eaten by a dumb dog. I came to this planet to rule over dogs. My future Meem and Peem were visiting their hometown that weekend. Peem's sister said she had a cute kitty that she wanted to show us and walked in with me:
This is my baby picture. I was very cute.
Meem and Peem took me back to the city that they lived in to see if they could find a home for me. They tried to keep me in a laundry basket for the ride home. I didn't like that. I jumped out and curled up on my Meem's lap in the front seat. She was a woman, so she had to do what I wanted. She even covered me with a towel. I slept like the baby I was for the entire two hour ride back to their city.
They couldn't find a home for me. I guess nobody wanted a cute kitten. I've always been misunderstood. I decided that I wanted to live with Meem and Peem, so I just yelled at them until they understood my command. Being humans, they did as they were told.
I was a sweet kitten.
I don't know why no one wanted me.*
(*Editor's Note- The question is left as an exercise for the reader.)
That's my philosophy. I have a list of things that equal bullshit. Like baths. Any treats except for Greenies. When I don't have ice cubes in my water or when Peem* says I have coobs*. When the windowsill is too narrow and I can't jump onto it. All this is bullshit. And it needs to change. This is why I am having Meem* type all of this for me. Everyone needs to know what needs to change.
Cats don't need baths. We're clean. I'm clean. I don't know why they give me a bath once a month. It's bullshit. And I should always have ice cubes in my water. Ice cubes are cool. I like to hear them crackle. I like cold water. And I don't have coobs. I'm a cat man. I'm big boned and strong. Big strong cat men don't have coobs. Big strong cat men don't fall off windowsills. The windowsills need to be wider. That's all. The bullshit needs to end. Pay attention.
**Editor's note: Peem is the Smeege's male servant. Meem is his female servant. Coobs are cat boobs. The Smeege is, how shall we say...husky. He also has pink skin. Hence, when he sits a certain way, it looks as though he has boobs. Obviously, he doesn't share our views. All of the Smeege's views in this blog are his own. If you disagree with his sentiments, try living with him.
Also, the Smeege smells. He's rank. That is why he gets bathed once a month. If he'd take care of his posterior, we wouldn't gag when he passes by and he wouldn't have to have a bath. Besides, he likes to walk around the bathtub during his bath and is as happy as a clam for a week afterwards. Don't let him fool you.
-The Editors
