Posts Tagged ‘Cat Penises and their Terrible Secret’

44. Round Up Stray Cats

October 10 2009

44. Round Up Stray Cats

You hear them at the least hours of the morning, partying in the [alleys/new growth shrubbery/molded pizza crusts and maggot-infested roaches] [below/outside/strewn on top of what was once] your window.1 They’re howling, they’re screaming, they’re using their terrifying barbed penii to, once and for all, tear down that wall to, finally, end the Cold War between Orgies and Knife Fights.2 They’re the cuddliest public nuisance since the kid who played the High School mascot went off his meds. So why not put your nocturnal heads together to hunt down these adorable little fuckers?

          Now you don’t have to slit their throats, pluck their whiskers until they die of decrydration, or pull off their tails in your bare hands and beat them about the head with their own tails until they are “catatonic”– you don’t even need to turn them dead.. All you need to do– as a couple– is to 1. Track Them; 2. Trap Them; 3. Snatch Them Up Into Your Burlap Catnapping, or “Purrlap” Sack;3 4. Make Them Quit It.

 

1. Track Them

Does one of you have a superior sense of smell, radar hearing, night vision, can taste and detect dander in the air, infinite touch,4 or “Heart”? If so, why are you wasting your time dating instead of solving crime/how are you even single? Who doesn’t want to be touched on the fun part forever, smelled in complete and utter fullness of rank, or watch you talk to a gibbon? How hopelessly unlove-or-fuckable must you be? Jesus Christ.
          If not, just follow the ancient cat-tracking secrets of our cat-worshipping forefathers:5

ARROW> Treat them like hot shit (not cold diarrhea).

ARROW> Like always leave them a saucer of milk (with lumps), or a ball of scrapped papyrus stalks (that’s what Egyptians wore, right?), or just give them a quick handy.
ARROW> (And) For Cripe’s Sake– Wear Thick Gloves!
ARROW> Asp. Sideways-walking Pharaoh, Rod, Foreleg of an Ox. Bird-headed Deity; Asp.
ARROW> Are the cats fuckfighting somewhere in the area [LIKELY] just follow their horrible voices to the source.Thanks Thanatos, thanks Eros.
ARROW> Wait. Those are Greek.

 

2. Trap Them

Cats are wily. Given. As egyptian royalty, they were tutled at feet of the slowest, lamest, most poorly dressed, and– by liquefying hooks and sawdust– the dumbest of all Universal Monsters, The Mummy. And how did The Mummy catch it’s prey? A tedious combination of dawdling, incompetent victims, magical jewels, and old-fashioned wiles, probably, I guess. Meh.
          The point is, to catch a cat you must become one:6

DOTo Cosplay that shit.

DOTo Don’t forget to shave your butthole and walk as to always be flashing it around.
DOTo And the coup “do g”race, the inimitable beckon of the feline purrbox…

 

3. Snatch Them Up In Your “Purr”lap Sack

Construction Instructions

– Buy about 20 lbs. of potatoes in a burlap sack
– Eat all the potatoes for strength for the trial ahead
– Take a nap– you’re of no use to anybody starch drunk
– Wait– make that a “cat nap”
– “Purr”fect
– “Cat”’s It!
– Ha ha ($$$). No, just “kitten”– slice open four or five young cats and “purr”loin their laryncies and place in your sack

Your newly christened “Purr”lap Sack will now echolocate creepy cat dick with the best of them. That’s what purring does, BTW– it is like SONAR for BONARs.7

 

4. Make Them Quit It

Once snug inside the “Purr”lap Sack do as the proverb proscribes and “turn the hose on them,” those “crazy cats”/You cannot waterboard cats, only waterbag. Do not turn off until they reform, confess, or go “cat”atonic.

          Did I use that already? How about “Cat”aplectic?
 
 
 

 

 

1Depending on whether you live in an [apartment/suburban housing development/flophouse] repsectively.

2With a deep Gorbachev-shaped indebt to ‘The “Lust” Guy from Se7en‘.

3A Purrlap Sack is a burlap sack you’ve “purr”loined so no one can track you back to your crimes by way of credit card receipts.

4If you touch a thing you touch it through and at all times; don’t ever have sex lest you become a pedophilic necrophile!

5Who do you think REALLY founded America? Check the dollar bill, bub– the slave-labored pyramid protected from disassembly ‘neath the watchful eye of Ra. Did you know that Abraham Lincoln was a Secret Jew sent forwards in time to shit in the Egyptians’ punch. Revenge is a Drink best served Pooped Inside Of.

6They are like Predators that way.

7Born Of Nightmares Animals’ Rods

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“The Way Some Fishes Kiss” part one (an Excerpt from “106 Cheap and Creative Dates (for the Upcoming Depression),” my book soon to be released in Back to the Future-style Time Travel Gauge Photographs Everywhere– OH SHIT>> It Just Vanished!!!

October 5 2009

39. The Way Some Fishes Kiss

 

(An introduction

Everyone has, of course, heard the aphorism “Fish Kisses!,” most likely shouted after dropping a tray full of scones you spent an hour straining your wrist and arms trying to handmix, or accidentally hammering your thumb, or from the back of a truck when our hero, having just executed a perfect death-defying leap/fall in escape from the 17th story of a building in which the secret microfiche was kept– having struck the surprisingly resilient canopy with splayed body (causing one soon-to-be-confused exiting pedestrian to open his suitably stodgy umbrella and, perhaps, remark about the frightfulness of weather in [insert town] to an effortlessly sycophantic doorman. “Just awful”) and fortunately bounced into an impressive and cleanly stuck landing in the back of a chicken truck, somehow crushing none of the poultry, just raising a humorous cacophony of clucks and squawks and, after suitable pause, a cut to reveal him loosely dressed in a crumbed coat of whisped white feathers– realizes that the gadfly/about lady raconteur– the one with whom our hero has established a real Batman and Catwoman, David and Maddie, Larry and Balky, Sodium and Chloride, K-Ci and JoJo, VH1 and Human Decency thing– palmed/swiped the MacGuffin when our hero– self0consciously heroic– commanded her to save herself and let him fall– a plea to which she immediately acquiesced– providing the requisite bit of comedy/lightening necessary (in this, the contemporary funster/post-post-ironic blockbuster) as we watch his face contort to deliver his debonairly un-debonair last swear/cuss (“Wh– Asshoo-o-o-le”) as he falls to his stunt.

But did they (Everyone) also know that Fish are the only animal (other than humans) that kiss on the mouth?2 While experts say that fish do not actually express affection through the kisses, as their puny mercury-infused brains are too underevolved to have developed such tedious and all-consuming/disastrously inefficient procreative processes as romance, I say “But what if they are? And, even if they aren’t, that doesn’t mean we can’t pretend that they are while we sit in front of their tanks and put our study (and study buddies) to use by sitting around trying to guess, on and in each others’ mouth and face, how each kind of fish would kiss. Let’s do it!”

Consider the Octopus: scourge of submarines, and their constituent submariners, everywhere.3 Through patient observation, which you and your date can undertake at The Aquarium, and by utilizing the latest cutting edge developments in Creation Science,4 we can reasonably derive that the octopus would most likely take advantage of its divinely apportioned eight (8) thoroughly suction-cupped tentacles and latch firmly to its lover’s body before proceeding to clamp mutual beaks with the object (or, octject5) of its undersea affection.

The next step is to translate this embrasser into an act humans can accomplish using the anatomy at their disposal. Teeth would have to be involved in order to recreate the calcified clack of the beasts’ chitenous beaks; to best simulate the embarrassing overbite that has long since relegated the octopus to dwell the ocean’s deepest depths, narrow your mouths before executing amorous interlatch. [Contrasting Octopus/Human diagrams to accompany].

The execution of the kiss itself is the easy part, as the mouth of an octopus, while an unwholesome and beastly near-appendage to be sure, matches in its location and purpose almost one-to-one with our own [contrasting diagram to accompany]; it is our species’ comparative dearth of limbs, and its absolute absence of suction cups, for which we must use our creative genius to make up. Lacking the raw material to portray the octopuses’ expressions of lust through an act of pure mimesis, then, the resourceful and art-inventing human resorts to a paralinguistic poetics of kinesics and bodily interaction. By gripping with carefully cupped-hand, at once tight but without malice, strategic spots on the body of our lover, and by intermittently and abruptly shifting these sites (by wiggled arm) throughout the duration of the kiss, we can approximate both the exotic and alien physicalities, as well as the raw animal intelligence (intuitive, sub-human), of an octopus embrace. And In Doing So Become One Step Closer To Mastering The Ways And Knowledge Of All Life Slash Making Out A Bunch But In Less Boring (Id Est Time-Tested Comma Awesome) Ways.

 

The following are similar examples of trans-species, trans-genus, trans-family, order, class trans-phylum, and, in one case, trans-kingdom kisses. They have already been observed, analyzed, diagrammed, and tested for you, which does admittedly subvert some of the purpose of the date. It is not an exhaustive list, however, and hopefully it can serve as an erotic Cliff’s Notes for you and your pre-betrothed. A study guide if you will– a Maritime Kama Sutra6, recut to be safe enough for airplane broadcast, (these are just kisses, after all), except that they might have missed one or two dirty parts. Look Forward To Them!:

 

 

 

1Chris Allen, author of The Occidental Nostrum— the vaguely familiar of a pre-supposedly charismatic ubermensch and his car chase filled fight against some demonized corporate overlord– in this case Big Medicine– in which the implied critique far outstrips the actual evidence/institutional failings, ignoring legitimate grievances in place of an insane and convoluted hyperscheme in which the easy target and their remarkably vast network of secret assassins and triplicitous government operatives have apparently replaced Research & Development with Rendition & Decapitation [Deeds comma Evil; Deeds Done Dirt Cheap comma Dirty; Deliverance comma That Scene– You Know The One I’m Talking About– In That Burt Reynolds Movie With, Uh, Ed Beatty? Is That His Name? The Fat Guy… And They’re In The Woods With. And There’s That Banjo Song? And They. It’s Like, From The 70s. Umm. It’s Ri– Oh!] and are operating on a mostly murder-based business plan in which profits, besides being inherently wrong, are as valuable in dollars as they are in death rattles.

2Our fellow primates, monkeys, apes, and those cute tiny guys with the giant eyes [uh.. Lipnickis!] come the next closest but, because of their well-known territorial streak and avarice for plaque, they will actually kiss their hand and then slap each other on the face. Hard. Elsewhere in the animal kingdom, most insects kiss with their antennae, birds go cloaca-on-cloaca, cats do not kiss for fear of getting ripped by the terrifying tip of their creepy penises, and eskimoes use their noses. Science!

3In this scenario, submarines are forged out of an horrifying stitched together and ensteeled fuselage of old expensive divers’ watches, discarded Marvel superheroes, and the army of Chad Bradford clones Billy Beane commissioned during the heights of his Moneyball-fueled confidence in his personal genius/access to cloning machines.

4“To say that the banana happened by accident is even more unintelligent than to say that no one designed the Coca Cola can.” – Kirk Cameron

5 Because eternal vigilance is the price of avoiding underwater miscegeny./The price of keeping underwater miscegeny at bay (i.e. where it belongs– on the filthy Poseidon-less inlets and coasts) is eternal vigilance.

6Contrary to common belief, the Kama Sutra was originally a movie [The Chaudhary Brothers, 1917]. Like Chop Suey, [XXXX ] , and the popularity of [YYYYY ] , the infamous erotic textbook actually began life as the creation of enterprising immigrants who, attuned to the twin American loves of orientalism and jerking off in public, decided to recast the characters of their boring, and frankly ludicrous, religion as a bunch of insatiable deviants, whose impressive erotic appetites could be matched only by their seemingly limitless flexibility. It’s thundering success rocked the world’s and is arguably the birth place of the contemporary Porno In The Guise Multiculturalism market. See The Pillow Book [Peter Greenaway, 1996], His Member the Titan [Boaz Jackin, 2000], She Hate Me [Spike Lee, 2004], CrASSh [Paul Gaggis, 2004]  or Sideways Vagina [Alexander Payne, 2004].