I'm A Pussy Magnet.

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March 26, 2010 by sandwichcontrol

Oh, where to begin?

Ah, yes, this week’s article for the City Wire is up. You can read it here.

Okay, so I am taking my sweet time getting up and around today. Yes, I know it is Friday. I don’t care. I decided a few weeks ago that I deserve a little break and I am bloody well taking one. So, I took a four day weekend. You wanna know what I am going to do during my four day weekend? Nothing. Or something. Whatever I want. If I have the compulsion to make 8 or so pizzas, then I’ll make 8 0r so pizzas. So there.

Well, I guess I should address the title of the post. I know you are sitting there wondering what I have gotten myself into this time. And boy, have I gotten myself into it alright.

Let’s see, well, I guess it all started about a month ago or so. Pancake Land has been wanting a kitten for a while now and when she went to the Humane Society with Little Peddler, who at the time was looking for a new guard dog, I was not surprised. When she returned home empty-handed and with a huge grin on her face, I knew I was in trouble.

“I’ve signed us up as foster parents.”

“Excuse me?”

“For kittens. We foster them while they are super squishy and cute. And then, when they are not cute anymore, we return them.”

“Oh.”

“Pretty brilliant, huh?”

“Wait, you said them and they. How many kittens are we talking about?”

“Oh, I don’t know. A few probably. Maybe a whole litter.”

“A whole litter.”

“It’s going to be so much fun.”

“Fun. Yeah.”

“We’re in trouble, aren’t we?”

“Yep.”

So, when we hadn’t heard from the Humane Society since then, we chocked it up to bad experience that Little Peddler had. We assumed that they lost our paperwork and that would be that. Turns out that Little Peddler’s friend Crazy Nancy’s cat is about to have a litter of kittens and we can have one of hers. No big deal. Sure that’s six more weeks of waiting for a kitten, but it hasn’t killed us thus far, what’s six more weeks?

That was until yesterday. Pancake Land calls me practically squealing like a little girl who is getting the pony she always wanted. When I asked her what was up, knowing full well that she has been in a funk the past few days, she informs me that we’re foster parents. Well, not yet, but we will be on Friday (that’s today). She then gave me every detail of what the Humane Society said about the kittens. Turns out that we are about to house and feed four 8 week old kittens. That’s all I know. Well, that and now the ever so tediously decorated living room has what I like to refer to as the “kitten concentration camp” in it.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited about the kittens.I have been thinking of terrible puns to title posts and photos since P.L. told me the news. I love kittens. Slow roasted with potatoes and carrots. So tender. I’m kidding. God, everyone is so sensitive about me eating the kittens.

And who wouldn’t be excited about the kittens? I mean, come on, who can resist the ridiculous cuteness of not one, but four kittens? Guys, if you wanna get laid this weekend, bring your special ladies by my house. Nothing turns a woman on like kittens. I know this because I was once a wild-and-crazy bachelor and the book of kittens and puppies worked wonders. I’m just saying. Here look at this:

That's right. Fall to your knees at the sight of such ridiculous cuteness.

Well, expect more news about kittens this weekend. I need to go get ready to have my driver’s license renewed. And possibly put the new mailbox up. We shall see. More soon. Kittens. ~SC


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