No Good TV Makes Blogmonster … Something Something.

Sometimes there’s just nothing on TV. Then what do you do? Rule a galactic empire? Let’s just wait a minute. Take one step back. And perhaps one to the side. Then spin around in little circles. Don’t you feel better? Or maybe just a little bit stupid. Don’t worry, I won’t judge you. Sometimes I spin in circles just for the heck of it. If you stop really quickly you get a giddy feeling in your stomach like … like … you’ve just spun around really fast and then stopped abruptly. Gosh darn it. I tried for a clever simile to help you understand, but you’re just going to have to try it for yourself. The experience is also elevated if you look up at the ceiling whilst spinning. Don’t blame me if you stub your toe on a wall or bang your knee into a coffee table. What were you thinking spinning around in such a small space anyways? You’ve got to spread out. Didn’t that Wii board you hardly play with anymore teach you anything? Create a space so you don’t collide with objects whilst exercising…

I like to let my mind roam wild and free. Sometimes it’s stupid, sometimes insightful, sometimes depressing, sometimes a little risqué and even sometimes purple monkey dishwasher. Mostly it’s full of frolicking kittens and cat noises.

I bought a lot of cat food the other day. Like ten little individual packets, all of which I had to scan at the self service checkout one by one. It was all I bought. I watched a movie last night called Trailer Park Boys. It had a man named Bubbles, with ridiculous coke bottle glasses, perhaps a bit of a mental impediment and many, many cats. He spent all his money on cat food. I wonder if I too will become like Bubbles.

Today, during work, I thought about my kitten. You see, I just got a new kitten. I called her Chi Chi. I told her that if she ever left me I would cry.

I feel a little uncomfortable when my mother calls me Mum – as in mother to my kitten. I mean, she didn’t come out of my uterus. Plus it’s confusing. There’s only one mum in this household and that’s my mum.

When she talks to the kitten she calls herself Grandma. That’s a little unsettling. She jokes that it will be the only time she’ll get to be a grandma.

I repeat, I did not give birth to a kitten.

I suppose people still call an adoptive parent Mum. But there are just some things I cannot provide my kitten. Perhaps that’s why she tries to suckle my stuffed animal Monkey in the most suspicious ways. Yeah it’s kinda cute, yet also kinda perverted.

And what does she mean by ‘her only chance to be a Grandma’? Am I that far gone? Yes, I eventually want to raise a cat army and take over … perhaps not the entire world, maybe just Canada … but does that mean I will never meet someone and start a family of my own?

Well?

You guys suck.

Please still be my friends.

If you ever leave me I will cry.

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