Friday, June 29, 2007

On hating Milo the cat

I HATE MILO THE CAT SO MUCH.

I mean, really. I've never actually had disdain for an animal, but if Milo dissapeared off the face of the earth tommorow, my only sorrow would be for Sam, because she would actually be sad. However, I personally wouldn't be mourning his absence.

Tonights episode: I'm trying to study for my damn test, and Milo picks MY room like he always does to have nightly antics. Under my bed. And on top of my dresser. Mind you, before Milo enters stage right, both of the other cats are quietly sitting and behaving themselves, and within five seconds of his entering the room, hes managaed to get them involved in some sort of CAT game that entails batting my things around the room and knocking bottles and picture frames off my desk. So I endeavor to throw them out. Ethan goes quietly, probably because he's too stupid/gentle to put up a fight. I love Ethan, he's my buddy. Dinah goes because deep down she loves me, even though Dinah aspires to love no one. But Milo, he hides under my bed, and continues to make a ruckus, and generally act like an asshole until I pin him under my cedar trunk and drag him out by the scruff of his neck. Really, this is his fault. If he would get the fuck out from under my bed, I wouldnt be forced to remove him by any means possible.

Anyway, I hate him. His stupid, "cute" little exterior, his "cute" little meow, his "cute" little personality. NO. He's the most obknoxious creature that ever roamed the earth. He must be stopped.

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