Originally Posted: 2003-07-25 9:35am
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A poem for my bastard cat
You Little Bastard
Egad! Whatís this glutinous hairball-wad thing?
(Itís ME! Itís ME! Itís ME! Itís ME!)
From where did that grapefruit-sized puff of lint spring?
(From ME! From ME! From ME! From ME!)
Who left all that gritty-ass sand in the sheets?
(ME! ME! ME! ME!)
And who shat a doody I smelled from the street?
(Just ME! Yes, ME! All ME-ME-ME-ME!)
You little bastard! Iíll step on your head!
Youíre a useless, ubiquitous eunuch.
Your hygiene is questionable and youíre brain-dead.
Iíd be happy to punt you to Munich.
Why is there cat hair all stuck to my clothes?
(Ask ME! Ask ME! Ask ME! Ask ME!)
And whose kitty litter adorns the dogís nose?
(Why, ME! Oh, ME! Itís ME! Itís ME!)
Whoís pissed off because of his harvested nuts?
(Thatís ME! Thatís ME! ME-ME! ME-ME!)
And who spent the afternoon licking his butt?
(ME! ME! It could only be ME!)
You little bastard! I slept not at all!
You were raising the devil at midnight.
Thereís a Thing that I cannot explain in the hall,
And the bathroomís a Superfund site.
Who tripped me up while I carried a beer?
Who stuck his sandpaper tongue in my ear?
Who shed his pelt in the chair where I sit?
Who chased the dog Ďtil the wife threw a snit?
Who flung the catnip all over the floor?
Who ran up the bill at the pet superstore?
Who clawed the carpets and scratched up the shades?
Who barfed on the quilt that my great-grandma made?
Who knocked the violets down from the shelf?
And who is insufferably pleased with himself?
Yes, who could this piteous pain-in-the-ass be?
I give you one guess, and the answer is ME!
The lesson is simple, the moral is plain.
Let this feline factoid be burned in your brain:
The curse of a cuddly kitten is that
Unless you first kill him, heíll soon be a cat.