Kitten Poker

Remember how I'm a terrible cat owner? Well, I'm not... exactly. Emma is simply an asshole, which I already knew, but the vet suggested it was me that was making her vomit on the couch. It's not.

For the first week after buying her the vet prescribed "food," she didn't vomit once and even gained .2lbs (I haven't weighed her again, because the scale and I aren't currently on speaking terms). But almost every day this week she's thrown up those lab-created vittles. So fuck you, vet! If she's going to puke, she's puking real food... made with meat. (Say's the pescatarian.)

I realize I shouldn't be celebrating that my cat throws up a lot because it can't be good for her. She really doesn't seem bothered by it, though. She just gets up from wherever she's napping, makes a noise like a dying seal, vomits, and lays back down. It's I who must run around trying to catch the vomit in some sort of magazine I suddenly decide is disposable so as to not have to clean puke out of the mattress/couch/carpet (Truth: Cats won't puke on hardwoods or tile).

But I should probably get off my high horse about my cat ownerness. After a particularly annoying conference call today, I IM'd WC with "[So-and-so] makes me want to throw kittens"  except I actually named "so-and-so" which once again makes me a bad person. But at least I'm inventive.

WC said he was surprised by that image because even on his worst day he doesn't want to hurt cats and he doesn't even really like them (horribly allergic... yes, it's a red flag). He suggested that he'd be thinking twice about making me listen to Kid Rock and Lady Gaga against my will again... you know... for the kittens.

Except that I made him see The World's End and it was soooo bad that I'm now indebted to him. In a having-to-listen-to-Lady-Gaga sort of way. I don't care what Rotten Tomatoes says. It was not good. I now owe him two romcoms. And I owe you $20 for using the phrase "romcom."

Basically, if one of us has an idea that ends up sucking, we punish the other by forcing them to participate in something we know they wouldn't ever do. It's very romantic. I've offered him 7 of his movies if he watches and hates Shaun of the Dead (because I feel like this should redeem my World's End decision), but I think he's afraid to even take me up on it because what if he does hate it and then he has to quickly find 7 crappy movies to make me watch before I dump him for being cruel...

I better go pysche myself up for Don Jon this weekend. Christ on a bike.

Bringing this back to cats... remember that scene in Buffy where Spike takes her to play kitten poker? I just spent 20 minutes trying to find you a clip on YouTube and all I could find are these pictures so I'm just littering this post with them to add some continuity and intrigue.  I'm going to make it big as a blogger. Just you wait.