I came home at 4am today after work all night, to find that our cat, Coach, had somehow got into my room, opened a bottle of black india ink, and spilled it all over my entire desk, keyboard, and cutting board. At this moment, it is the greatest task of self restraint to not strangle him, put him in the microwave for 5 hours, and chop his paws off.
I do hate this cat, I would not be guilt stricken at all if he were to drop dead at any moment, and there is nothing, right now, that I would love more than to remove his head from the rest of his dumb, ugly, flea ridden body.
I never thought I was an angry drunk.
But in my defense, I’ve only had 3 beers.
“you can blame on your hat,
the faults in your head”
Should have been at Too $hort tonight instead of work. Blowin’ it.
horror show was sick tonight
Reorganized my room. NO COACH ALLOWED.
