Monday, October 13, 2008

I talk to cats.

I talk to cats. There, I said it. My big secret is out. I talk to cats.

I don’t talk to them expecting an answer. That would be crazy. I talk to them and then provide voices for their answers. Sort of like the Phyllis/Mr. Doggy sketches from Little Britain USA, minus the nudity.

What have I learned from my conversations with cats? They are smarter than me. Funnier, too. And that they have a certain proclivity towards cheeseburgers.

Every so often, someone will catch me deep in conversation with a cat:

Me: "Hey, Mr. Kitty... what are you doing?"

Cat: "Fuck off."

Other person: "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Cat: "I said, fuck off."

It can be quite embarrassing. I have no idea why cats are so rude, but it can create some awkward situations when another person enters the room. I often have to pretend whatever weird thing the cats are saying is coming from the TV.

Eventually, I'll have to stop. I'm positive that most of the world doesn't appreciate my discussions of current events with cats. When the world catches up with me, however, I'll have the last laugh as I'll be the sole authority on cat politics.


  1. I have three of my own cats that I talk to every day. Not like, crazy talk to but like semi-crazy talk to. I consult them on serious life decisions. They've never led me astray.

  2. We still do the French Skittles voice.