The Tale of the furball from HELL

Hello welcome back back

  So soon you say ! Not even two hours ago I posted a blog, almost being able to brag that my Monday was almost event free ,,, that is until just a few minutes ago. Sit back, get comfy and for christ sakes someone pass me a shot of something strong through the computer screen, I know I need it after what just went down at the love shack. 

  9:25am, I am trying to use the bathroom before the workers get here to finish up the windows.  Success I happily announce to the beast, who figures I may need moral support in my journey.  I wish I could train him to retrieve new rolls of asswipe because some jackass put the last roll on the holder, and didnt refill the stock in the bathroom, however, after typing that I realise I am the said jackass, because you see, I am the only one who remembers to add the toiletpaper to the holder.  Anyhoo, toiletpaper is back in stock, I had success, I need a coffee.  As I round the bottom of the stairs, I am not ambushed by the cat, if only it were that easy, Im getting quite used to his ambushes.  Oh no instead I discover or I should say my hiking boot, discovers a little to late that TA DA the anti furball meds worked ! Moses yacked up a furball so big it looked like a cross between a used SOS pad and a dead mouse.I slide on my foot going through the air like some kind of super hero, finally regain my balance and what is left of my dignity and  kick the now covered hiking boot off , slip on my slippers and am in the stages of cleaning off the boot.

  A knock at the door summons me that the workers are here to paint ! Awesome I say to that.  Slicker then otter snot, the cat who had not yet made it to the basement to prevent escapes, ESCAPED.  Out the door I fly, hollering over my shoulder, its ok hes a quick little bastard.  My feet hit the ground, my body flies through the air, I almost catch the cat and land on my ass !!!! Come to find out, slippers arent made for canadian winter weather.  I slowly pick myself up, checking to make sure my teeth are still in my head, because the pain going all through my body tells me I may be missing some, and we may need to serve jello at our wedding instead of cake.  Teeth are all accounted for, as is the cat.

  I get the little furball from hell, carry him in the house and after what he did next I am surprized he isnt dead yet.  Guess its good for him that I am walking like a 90 year old woman and cant kill him. He runs up the stairs, and lands in the middle of the paint tray, which I may add is full of fresh paint !!!
 

 Paint paint everywhere and none of it on my walls. I have paint speckles in my hair, on my face, my new hoodie, and my new slippers. The workman has paint all over him and the cat ,,, well he is no longer a brown striped tabby, he now has white all over him.  I take one look at the workman, I see his lips tremble, his body jerk and he goes into full body convulsions of laughter.  He said I have never seen a cat fly through the air like that before, thats the best laugh I have had in weeks.  At least he isnt upset, I however am. Not only do I have a hiking boot with encrusted furball stuck to the bottom, but now I have paint from asshole to appetite to clean up.  Its to bad the cat enjoys water, because I really could have made his life a living hell , and given him a taste of how he makes me feel on a daily basis.  Sadly he didnt mind his bath, and he really enjoyed the hairdryer. Nothing says contentment like a freshly washed and blow dried pussy I guess.

 I am listening to Mary Chapin Carpenter sing to me about, I take my chances, I think this should be Moses' theme song.  She went from singing that song to, you never had it so good, I never had it so bad. Its a sign I say, That song fits mine and Moses' relationship to a tee.  He has it so good, and all I get is the bad, the jingling of his incesent bell all night long, his daily ambushes, his puked up furball covering my favorite pair of boots, his now freshly washed furry ass that still has the distinctive odor of eggshell paint.  And he just returned from the basement, with that smug look on his face that says, hey infedellllllllll I left you a present in my litter box. His smug look then goes on to tell me , heres a hint, it may look like a tootsie roll, but guess again , its not !. Serves you right bitch, for making me gag down that terrible medicine, but guess what, it comes out both ends.  Remind me again why I let that little furball from hell capture my heart, because as of late, he may be capturing my heart, but hes also taking away what little sanity I have left.

  I have looked long and hard at the remaining fireball I have left, but I think it says somewhere in our student rule book, that coming to class under the influence is not a good thing.  May you all be filled with uneventful stress free days, and could you all tell me whats its really like. And may you all be so happy, you can shout to the world. "I"m so happy, I could shit rainbows and fart fairydust.