So it’s true. I officially live with a dude.
Yup, he has black hair, green eyes and a high pitched meow. His name is Oscar and he is a Maine Coon Cat. I also refer to him as Oscalicious. He has gorgeous hair and sparkling eyes…so I tell him he looks just like his Mama.
Ever since Oscar moved in last month I can’t help but feel the overwhelming weight of living with a boy. He is dirty, he leaves stuff everywhere, doesn’t put things away... all he wants me to do is feed him... and when we watch TV together, he farts.
Seriously. I live with a dude. When I come home he rubs against me and is always trying to lay his head on my boobs, but the minute I start to get dressed to go out with friends he wants nothing to do with me. He will stare at the length of my skirt and at my wine glass, as if to say, "Are you getting drunk AGAIN you ho?!"
Last night I actually forgot about him for a moment and kicked him off the bed by accident. I rolled into the middle and pushed him off the side with my leg. I woke up to two green eyes staring intently at me from the floor. You could tell he was not happy...I hadn’t feed him or given him any love last night and seriously I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t rip up all my bras this afternoon while I am at work ...or hack into my facebook page.
Yesterday I found him sitting in my bathroom staring at a magazine with a half naked girl on the cover. I swear if I come home one night to find him reading a playboy while watching Sports Center I will not be fucking surprised.
Living with Oscar
Friday, November 7, 2008
Living with Oscar
Posted by Kim & Dic at 9:55 AM
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2 Cizz-omments:
If he starts leaving the toilet seat up you might be on to something.
Awww you two just haven't bonded yet. Personally, I have a really close relationship with my two male kitties. I'm like that crazy overprotective mother who wants to spend quality time with her boys. In my defense, my boyfriend loves them too so I'm not totally crazy, and they are super cute and really cuddly and hungry for attention. When I sit on my couch, one crawls into my lap every time. It's like having an independent infant - I have the joys of a cute cuddly baby who adores me, but can leave it at home all day while I'm at work or passed out drunk in the middle of a dance floor at 8 p.m. on a Friday night at happy hour.
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