small brush shouldn't fuck with big timber

Death's Door, the view from the Spanish announcers table: sweatin the small stuff

Friday, July 28

sweatin the small stuff



From the “Paul Harvey say’s I ain’t dead yet muthafuckers” department…………

comes the story of a man just walking down the street minding his own business and shit when suddenly his whole world came crashing in on him. By his whole world I mean he got hit by a falling dog. According to my many inside sources, the cat got his ass flattened something silly by a hundred-ten pound Saint Bernard that fell on him.

Yeah, it seems that the owner of the big furry bastard was getting his drunk on when he decided to throw the fuckin dog named Oskar out the second story window of his apartment. The dog landed more or less unhurt being that his fall was cushioned by the sorry muthafucker he landed on.

And as for that surprised bastard, he’s ok too, more in shock from getting hit by a falling big assed dog then anything else. Now on a personal note, how much of a fuckin puking ass drunk asshole do you have to be to throw your dog out the fuckin window and a goddamned Saint Bernard at that?

And from the “beating it never hurts” department……..

comes the story of Lewis the cat who has been ordered by a judge to be confined to his owner’s house at all times. It seems that Lewis the cat is all kinds of a bad muthafucker and gets his jollies off by attacking folks living in the neighborhood.

According to my many inside sources, shit got so bad with Lewis that he was supposed to put down. But the court showed mercy and instead confined him to his house with the stipulation that should he ever get out, not only will his owner catch some jail time but Lewis heads off to kitty heaven.

Now as a former cat roommate of many years I fully understand that given half a chance the average cat will beat a muthafucker’s ass. Me and my cat used to have some heroic battles when we lived together. There’s nothing worse then trying to walk thru the house with a plate full of food, drinks in the other hand when suddenly Cat launches his crazy ass from somewhere up in the ceiling and attacks me.

And why you may ask, because he thought he was being funny, and that’s when the fight was on. I’d be dropping elbows and trying to knee him, during all the while he’d be working low trying to hamstring me and get me on the ground. Cat had some insane fighting skills and gave as good as he got. Man, and I thought my father could hit hard.


"and the monkey flipped the switch"

2 Comments:

Blogger Big Daddy 2x4 said...

I don't think cats are ever trying to be funny when they attack... they're out to kill! I'm a cat person, too but I know those muthafuckas would nibble my soul if they got half a chance.

The only thing that's saved me over the years is I'm too fast for them to get the coup de grace on compared to you being too bloomin' big for them to get the kill shot.

If either of us eats the poisoned apple, Princess Charming's gonna find nothing but bone and gristle along with some satisfied cats... right before she's slaughtered by those l'il bastards.

11:23 PM  
Blogger The Beltway B@stard said...

Ditto - my one cat gets hungary and I either feed her or have my toes eaten.

9:09 AM  

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