Friday, July 11, 2014

July 11: Express Yourself

RUSTY: Never let it be said I never give you anything.
ME: Hairballs, puddles of urine, broken glasses, ruined furniture: you're like Santa Claus as it is. I would never say you never give me anything.
RUSTY: Well this is new. I wrote a poem for you.
ME: For me?
RUSTY: Well, more like about you. May I?
ME: Against every instinct in my body, go right ahead.
RUSTY:     You captured my body, but never my soul;
    You hate me and hurt me, remove my control.
    You've stolen my cathood, my honor, my pride.
    You show me the world yet you keep me inside.
ME: Hey. I didn't capture any damn body. I rescued your sorry ass. From a KILL SHELTER. You'd do well to remember that, Shakespeare.
RUSTY: I'm not done.
ME: Yes you are.
RUSTY: You can't just shut off creativity, you know. I can see how your simian brain can't grasp the nuances, the subtleties, of my poetry.
ME: Well first of all, it's empty doggerel with greeting-card meter and all the emotional weight of a high-school student's creative writing project.
RUSTY: That actually hurt a little bit.
ME: Second of all, none of that is true.
RUSTY: It's called poetic license. What am I gonna write about, that you scritch me behind the ears real good and that you give me tuna when I want it? That's like cat porn, man. I don't roll like that.
ME: Get any fatter and you'll roll, all right.
RUSTY: You think you can do any better?
ME: Writing this kind of garbage? I could wipe the floor with you. I actually HAVE wiped the floor with you.
RUSTY: I'm not going to apologize for having a multi-function coat that attracts dust and locks it away.
ME: Is this some sort of challenge?
RUSTY: Those who can't do, bitch about it. Those that can't bitch about
ME: Quit while you're behind, wordsmith.
RUSTY: Yes, this is a challenge. Write a quatrain about me that is better than the one I wrote about you.
ME: And the stakes?
RUSTY: If you win, I will pee in the litterbox and nowhere else for an entire week.
ME: If you win, you get the whole can of wet food for a week, instead of a half can.
RUSTY: Agreed.
ME: Agreed.
RUSTY: You have three minutes.
ME: I don't need three minutes. Here you go:
    Sleeps for seventeen hours and asks where the day went;
    Makes household decisions but never a payment.
    Conceited and pompous, we laugh when you purr -
    No wonder that we enjoy shaving your fur.
RUSTY: Well, I guess you win.
ME: I guess I do.
RUSTY: I'm going to take a nap. Congratulations. (Walks away)
ME: You're pissing in the bathtub, aren't you?
RUSTY: Only thing YOU won is some of my pee to clean up, jackass.

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