The Fluffy Chronicles - Giving A Flying Crap

by Fluffi al-Thirdstreeti

Day 588 - With each passing day, the meat-nugget looks more and more like a human. A useless, hairless, semi-retarded human, but a human nonetheless. Today I watched as it grunted, generated a squirting sound, then took off its butt-wrap and started playing with the repugnant contents therein. Longhair dashed into the room squealing "Devon - NOOO!", scooped it up, and dashed it off into another room for cleaning.

Now, how do you like that? That gurgling breast-sucking burden befouls the entire living room and plunges wrist-deep into its own arse-squeezings and Longhair streaks in to clean IT up - while leaving me here to drink in the glorious aromas of Devon's gastric guacamole contained in its still-lying-in-the-middle-of-the-floor butt-burrito. When *I* planted one outside the rock garden as a kitten, they screamed all the way to Hell and chased me with a broom!

Devon.... DAMN! They NAMED the thing! You never name your prey - thus they aim to keep it. Aye, the road before us is a long one, my friends...

Day 597 - Devon continues to be showered with attention and praise for crapping himself. Fluffi continues to be largely ignored until beer-and-ballgame time when Shorthair will pet me if I jump in his lap; his exhausted, passionless, nigh-robotic stroking motions notwithstanding. Longhair... well she's just batshit insane. When fur-curling odors emanating from a tiny flesh puppet cause one to clap and gush with joy, that one has clearly batted the jingle-toy out of the plastic ball of her mind.

Day 605 - "Ooooh, Devon! Look at the pretty birdie!" Had I not heard this line approximately 756 times a day over the last month or so, I would consider it a benign off-handed comment. Were it not gushed in a shrill, lilting, near-glass shattering pitch by a human looking out a friggin' window for hours on end while holding a poop-and-powder scented flailing-and-slobbering meat nugget, I would not be moved to comment. However...

Humans: Get this now and get this good - birds are a pestilence designed to destroy you. Stop calling them pretty, stop protecting them from extiction, and definitely stop paying $1500 to have one invade, colonize, and infest your home.

Let us look at this objectively. There are two categories of birds: domesticated and wild. Wild birds are little more than feather-bags of disease flying hither and yon dropping their contagion-laden feces indiscriminately and mating with domesticated birds (which YOU EAT) further contaminating the Earth mammalian population.

Domesticated birds fall into two main categories of Pets and Food. Food birds are crunchy - not bone-crunchy like those gamey baby robins, more of a crispy-crunchy often with a hint of a dozen or so herbs and spices. Mmmmm! - but that doesn't make them any less dangerous to us. Salmonella and e-coli go with bird meat like jo-jos and corn on the cob. Pet birds live INSIDE your home speading their foul contagions WITHIN YOUR WALLS, but they have pretty feathers and sometimes say "Polly want a cracker" so you bipedal buffoons titter and coo and feed the damnable feathered Trojan Horses.

Hear me, Humans, and destroy these winged demons! Cats are immune to their brightly-colored seduction - that's why we are your masters. Heed your master, Longhair! HEEEEED!