Catological Humor

Dogs and cats. Two glorious examples of how much people want to share their love, and some people still turn it into a pitched battle. That’s the entire hope and tragedy of our species right there. Some of the more rabid of the dog brigade boast that they don’t need to keep shit-boxes in their homes. But when a dog owner brags about not having to clean up after their pet, you know you’re not the asshole in this situation.

Because the asshole in any pet situation is still a cat. Even if they’re not involved. They’re that good at it. And Neutrino is unveiling the full power of his biology in a quest for domination.

What happens when Blofeld and his cat have a telepod accident

What happens when Blofeld and his cat have a telepod accident

Or rather he’s ceasing to veil it, leaving his litter tray deposits uncovered as a feline power play. Proof that this is his land, his home, and that he fears no other animal in the area. He stinks the place up and I must obediently scoop it away. But I don’t buy that idea of inferiority. Because you know, if someone came into my bathroom every day to steal my poop, and there was nothing I could do to stop it? I wouldn’t feel like I was winning that interaction. Every time I do my doody-duty he stares like I’m too crazy to understand or confront.

Then there’s the pee. When Striker pees outside the litter box it’s impossible to punish him, because he looks as confused by what’s happening as anyone else. He gives the impression that the few neurons he has to play with are just holding on to the front of this “cat” thing as it’s driven around by a self-cranking tail. Not like Neutrion, who knows exactly what pee is and how to use it. He never goes outside the box by accident. It’s only ever when we’ve returned from holiday. To show his displeasure he’ll leap onto an unpacking suitcase and piss right through all our clothes, maintaining eye contact all the way. He’ll stay arching and staring even as you dive at him, taking the hit just to teach us a lesson.

But their smelly stuff does describe another interesting animal hierarchy. Our local cattery recommended Small Holder Range chicken pellets as cat litter. Big bulky bags of odor-absorbent, easily-scooped litter box material for a fraction of the cost of stuff which actually says that on the bag. So the chicken’s best food is the cat’s best toilet roll. You can’t make your position above something else more clear without peeing on them directly.

More internet-approved cat-content with

Freelance Temporal Control

A friend was visiting from Saturday to Monday, so I used the amazing power of freelancing to declare Monday an honorary member of the weekend. Truly freelancing makes all our dreams come true! There was another day of Race for the Galaxy, beer, pizza, a couple of hours of Horus Heresy, (which experts will recognize as “just enough time to unpack, set up, then carefully repack Horus Heresy”), and much rejoicing.

Then it was Tuesday. But it was the first day back at work after a weekend, so it was effectively Monday. And I still had to do all the work from the real Monday. Fool that I was! My blatant abuse of power, my reckless tampering with the timestream had created a Double-Monday. And lo, I have suffered the worst karmic petard-hoisting in history.

Um Actually To The Nth Degree

The blackboard looks like a fractal. Only by peering close can you see that the nested lines are equations and links. But your way is blocked by multicoloured threads extending from tacks punched into the board through sheer strength of righteousness, reaching across a room wallpapered in pictures of videogame women in armour crafted along the exact contours between 18 and AO certification.

Weaving through the web, the brave and sweaty hero homes in on the lower-right quadrant of the chalked equations, stabbing at a knot of logical interconnections.

“See!” he cries. “The person pointing out sexism didn’t account for the second scene of Episode 17, part 3, of Tit-Murderers Cock Squad! Therefore their findings are incorrect!”

The sheer force of the proof blasts from the board as pure light, a shockwave of energy echoing across the world to erase all accusations of sexism. He is awarded the Nobel Prize, which has been remoulded with double D tits for the occasion.