It detests you, it cannot stand you.
It does not care to understand you.
Your cat wants to bury you and leave with your nuts.
with knees like swiss cheese and a pack of Marlboros in your butt.
Those dope ass mother-effin' rhymes were unfortunately rooted in fact, you see. Your cat wishes you would be out of its life forever. It fantasizes thousands upon thousands of scenarios that ultimately result in your doom or disappearance. Have you even taken a moment out of your day to pet Albert Whiskers (this is the name of your cat) or even acknowledge that he means universes to you? Talk to Albert Whiskers and you shall resolve the issue and be free to study all of the varieties of birds that you desire.
You are a true and absolute tangerine in jean shorts.
Who? You, cherished reader of this little McScribble. That's who.
PS: Your cat actually tolerates you, it likely doesn't desire to shove Marlboros up your butt.
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