The Old F-You

So, I got home from work Weds., and noticed a rather suspicious smell. Smelled like turds, to be more exact. It took me a while to find said turds, but I did. Here's what I think happened:

I brought my pal T-Bone's cat Lucy home, cause T-Bone was out of town. This caused my 2 cats much, much distress. My big cat was actually okay with her, but my little cat was freaking her shit out. I'm talking hissing, spitting, tail all puffed out rage. She actually flew across the room and jumped poor Lucy. I felt so bad. Poor Lucy was just trying to hang out, you know? And here comes pyscho-cat, jumping all up in her grill, breathin' up all her air. I kept Lucy in my bedroom for the next 2 days, to see if my cats chilled out, and they really never did, so I took Lucy back to her house Tuesday night.

Fast-forward to Weds. evening. My big cat likes to express his displeasure in meaningful, fragrant ways. Normally, he just yaks all over the carpet, but he'll drop a deuce for special occasions. So, I'm certain that the steaming logs in my closet were just his way of saying "fuck you, Mom...fuck you for bringing that other cat home...what the fuck were you thinking?"

You have to admire that kind of moxie. I mean, if I had any balls at all, that's what I would do when people piss me off. I can think of at least one person who should have a chilli-fueled messy dump waiting for her right now...yeah...that would be sweet. Maybe I'll get chilli for lunch.