Suicide Cat

I have officially named the neighbor’s cat “Suicide Cat.” Not because she tries to commit suicide on a regular basis…oh wait, yes, that is exactly why I named her that.

This cat is so miserable or just extremely stupid that when I drive down my driveway she bolts in front of my car. And then she stops and looks. Then she bolts in front the car again, or just walks slowly. There are so many places in the shade for a small cat to sit and hang out around our building. Suicide Cat is not among the smartest of felines because her spot of choice is in the middle of the driveway where she sweats under the sun awaiting cars to run her over. It’s another one of her suicidal strategies I assume. However, in some ways I like this cat because she makes me laugh (sometimes) and with my strange humor I put a voice over to her actions. “Hit me…fuck no I change my mind, ok hit me, do it, no shit ahhh I will run away now.” Her famous move is the “lets hide underneath the car when people are backing up move.” I wish this move had a shorter name, but I didn’t write the book of suicidal cat moves. Anyway, she loves this move and I most certainly do not.

Now I have no clue which neighbor (or in our little Armenian village, which family of 12) this cat belongs to. But that doesn’t even matter because I don’t know what Armenians belong to each-other either. Anyway, Suicide Cat is always outside meowing at me. Night and day.  So, naturally I pat Suicide Cat’s head all the time and tell her that her little cat life is good and that she doesn’t need to play suicidal games. I also tell her that if she really is trying to kill herself than JUST FUCKIN DO IT YOU RETARDED CAT… and let me back out of my parking spot without having to worry about running over a retarded cat.

Frozen Mystery

Ok, so as I was doing the dishes I kept thinking about that piece of frozen mystery that my friend Kelly came across while making vodka drinks the other night. I don’t really spend too much time in the freezer to notice that gross piece of garbage that Ryan apparently transferred from his old apartment. Anyway, this brought me to get my work gloves out, put on the cold blue mask (that is randomly in there as well), and investigate. My investigation ended approximately 2 minutes after seeing the fogged over label which read “Rosemary Mint Lamb Shoulder Chop.” After almost vomiting on this hairy piece of shoulder chop I read the sell by date. It should have been eaten by Oct 25, 2009. I don’t know if I should toss it out where suicide cat (my neighborhood cat) could possibly use it as a harming device or if I should sell it as an antique.