Sunday, January 16, 2005

From The Cats

Pete: Okay. This just blows. She brought that damn dog into the house, and we have to live upstairs now. I'm pissed and I'm hating her and the dog.

John Doe: I don't like that dog either. he's big and scary. And loud. And scary. And...

Pete: Shut the hell up John. They get the message.

Grace: I'm with them. I don't want to be upstairs. I miss my chair in the kitchen. And I miss Ames. I could give a damn about the dog, but he is too loud, and those feet are so big too. I'm kind of scared.

Bertha: Shut up you bunch of whiners. I wish you all were out of my bedroom, I hate you all anyway, but now you're in MY room. I can stand it if it's just at night, but now you are are hanging out here all the time. If I wasn't 15 I'd kick his sorry doggly ass.

Pete: You're such a bitch, go back under the bed where you belong. You can't kick John Doe's ass, and you're talking such shit about kicking the dogs ass. Puhleeze... Anyway, we hate the dog, it needs to go, and if you think for one second that I'm going to be the first to hang out downstairs, all of you are sadly mistaken. When I came down Friday night, I couldn't even take a shit in peace, he came barging in and freaked me right out. I don't know what we're going to to, but we need to do something. But we can't do anything to her because she feeds us, and does hug us a lot. Hmm.

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