So, Dr. Phil just went on Larry King and said he was "undecided" about voting for the President. Has Oprah not yet flexed her extremely strong vagina? Bitch needs to get her man under control. She needs to get that Oprah Mind Control Shit going on.
WE ARE VOTING FOR THE BLACK MAN. THE BLACK MAN THAT CAN USE THE INTERNET. THAT ONE. THE REALLY GOOD LOOKING ONE THAT IS ACTUALLY ALIVE AND BREATHING. THAT ONE. THE ONE THAT I THINK STILL HAS SEX WITH HIS WIFE. HOPEFULLY. I WANT A PRESIDENT THAT FUCKS HIS WIFE. THERE IS SO MUCH MORE CHANCE THEY AREN'T GOING TO BLOW SHIT UP.
That should easily clear it up.
Jesus The Cat had to go to the vet yesterday because he's fat. When I called to make the appointment they said, "So, what is going on with him?" and I got to say, "Aw, nothing. He's just HUGELY FAT and my mother is worried about his kidneys. This appointment is totally for her." The vet tech understood. She must have a mother like mine.
My mother thinks there is some sort of fat disease from which the cat must SURELY suffer simply because he weighs somewhere in the neighborhood of 23lbs (and, yes, that is the average weight of a one-year-old human child). Look, sometimes cats are just fat. Jesus is obviously a Republican. That's okay. I love him anyway. He is my very own "fat cat". He's just in favor of free healthcare and ending the war in Iraq. He's a Maverick like that. I pried him off Sarah Palin's leg yesterday and forced him to at least
offer to marry her daughter.
After he got home from the vet I decided they probably attacked his self-esteem with all that weighing and talking of prescription diet food, so I fed him some KFC Original Recipe (his favorite) and whispered sweet nothings in his ear. He reciprocated by licking my elbow and making biscuits on my boobs-such is the life. I think my therapist once mentioned something about "enabling" running in my family but I'm choosing to not address that this year. I purposely avoid reading "Co-Dependent No More" while I feed him fried chicken and wonder why he can't reach around and clean his own ass-you know, like normal cats.
Tonight I got to attend a work function with lots of Catholics and wine. God, I love being born into the only religion where riding around with a fifth of Jack Daniels in the back seat actually makes you
more pious.
I'd like to introduce you to a little poem in the form of something I refer to as "American Hiaku". There are no syllabic restrictions...or any other kind of restrictions-really. I call it "Life is better now":
The cat is fat.
I love The Man.
The market crashed yesterday.
Crap.
I'm still taking my anti-depressants.
Cool.
I wish Obama was my dad
and Tina Fey was my mom.
Tina Fey makes me want to kiss women.
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