WARNING: This is going to be a LONG, verbose post as many of mine tend to be. This story was taken directly from the story I just posted on my website about the crotch-pooper of a cat that I posted a pic of a few months ago. I am going to post it in the same manner in which I posted it on my site. I know most of you won't read it, but for those who do, I hope you are able to get some chuckles out of it.
:-)
Meet the Kitten Who Pooped and Peed on My Crotch, Snarflebunz
If I were to say that Krystal and I have absolutely no luck when it comes to selecting the perfect, suitable pet for our family, it would be the epitome of understatements. Our luck has been awful…
Our luck started out wonderfully. Below is a picture of the first pet that Krystal and I ever took in and raised together. She was a female cat who liked to hang out in the garage. Her name was Lieutenant Butt-Cheeks.
Lieutenant Butt-Cheeks was perfect. She was lazy. She liked to veg out as reflected in this photo. Yeah, she was a perfect fit for us.
Unfortunately, Lieutenant Butt-Cheeks was run over by a truck when a dog pestered her and she scurried from the garage to the road. Her spine was crushed and out of desperation, I took her to the vet with a wad of cash, hoping with all my might that they would be able to heal her somehow. As it turned out, I needed that wad of cash I brought with me, but I wasn’t able to use it how I wanted. I had to use that money to “put her down.” The veterinarian informed us that there was nothing they could do to help her and that the most humane thing to do at that point would be to “put her down.” With a stiff upper lip and rugged-tough demeanor, I paid the veterinarian and consoled my weeping wife as we both said our “good-byes” to Lieutenant Butt-Cheeks. Well… shit, who the hell am I trying to fool? I was sobbing just as much or more than my wife was. I was really shook up. I loved that cat. That was a few years ago and to be honest, to this day, I don’t like thinking about it, let alone writing about it.
Following Lieutenant Butt-Cheeks, we ended up with the infamous Hamburglar. We found The Hamburglar from a facebook online auction and garage sale-type thing that many people are obsessed with called “Burlington Buy, Sell, Trade.” My wife is a Burlington Buy, Sell, Trade addict and I hate it because the majority of what people try to get rid of on that site is total shit. You should see this basketball hoop I ended up with for $50 due to my wife finding an awesome “deal” via Burlington Buy, Sell Trade. You can use it to play basketball with…but it requires an awful-lot of duct-tape applied to it in order for it to function as the basketball hoop that it’s supposed to be. Ghetto fabulosity at its finest.
Here is a pic of the evil Hamburglar:
I wrote a story about The Hamburglar that ended up being a reader-favorite. It was titled, “Meet The Hamburglar” and it chronicled a story about how the cat was so damn crazy that it was capable of chewing apart most of my infant daughter’s toys. However, he met his match with one of those baby rings, when it got stuck in his mouth, as seen below:
The Hamburglar began playing with this ring and as a result, he accidentally got the thing lodged in his mouth and was unable to get his mouth free. He scratched the crap out of my hands as I spent 30 minutes of my life vigorously trying to free him.
Here is a closer look at what happened here. It was one of the most absurd things I’ve ever witnessed:
Unfortunately, we had to get rid of The Hamburglar. He kept biting my toes/feet when I’d walk around the house. He’d bite HARD. His teeth would sink deep and my toes would be swollen for days following. It was as if he were in a frenzy…like, it seemed like he mistook my big toes for a piece of hot dog and had full intentions of literally eating my toes. It really hurt. It pissed me off and made me nervous, since my oldest daughter, Kaiya, was learning how to walk herself. I’d be one pissed off mother-scratcher if The Hamburglar gnawed into the flesh of my daughter’s toes/feet in the same manner as he repetitively and consistently gnawed into my toes/feet.
The final bite to my toes took place when I came home from somewhere, took my flip-flops off and the damn Hamburglar immediately ran towards me and bit deep into the big toe of my right foot. I fell to the floor, wincing and moaning in utter pain. As I laid down on the ground in the fetal position that I frequently seem to assume when induced with severe pain, The freaking Hamburglar ran a circle around our house and proceeded to approach me again and bit the big toe on my left foot. He bit this toe just as hard or maybe even harder than he bit the other one. Both of my toes immediately became drenched in blood and ended up ended up being swollen for a week following the bites. The pain was excruciating. Have you ever had a painful injury occur in both of your big toes simultaneously? It’s not only very painful, but it’s also bizarre, especially while attempting to walk in the days following. Shit, for a week, when I walked, it looked as if I were doing the “Crip-walk.” I’m lucky I didn’t get capped by a Blood on a day when I may have been wearing something with purple in it. Especially considering the rough neighborhood of Mediapolis, IA I reside in. Bloods and Crips occupyin’ my hood like whoa, yo.
Through a job I held for 5 years in Wapello, IA, I became familiar with a local trailer park and many of its inhabitants. Most of these inhabitants were pet-crazy…like, they’d allow 50 cats and 10 dogs to reside with them in their trailer…and they’d take better care of their pets than they took care of themselves. The mere thought of a male cat being neutered and de-clawed (The Hamburglar was both) made most pet-loving inhabitants of this trailer park jizz in their pants because generally, they couldn’t afford for their pets to be declawed and/or splayed/neutered. Therefore, when I showed up at the trailer park with The Hamburglar in my hands in an attempt to get rid of him, it didn’t take long for someone to claim him. The man who claimed him was a person who I knew would take care of him, for he was efficient in caring for his other 8 cats, so I was confident that things were going to work out for The Hamburglar in this new situation.
About a year after providing this guy with the gift of The Hamburglar, I encountered him at Dollar General in Wapello. I asked him, “so how is The Hamburglar?” He responded with smoking-induced raspy voice, “the Hamburglar? You talkin’ about that red-haired, jailed up, burger stealer from the McDonald’s cartoons?” I replied, “no man. I meant the cat I gave you.” He immediately smiled and responded excitedly with, “oh you mean Dick-munch?!?!” I thought to myself, “apparently this guy not only gave The Hamburglar a new name, but also didn’t even remember what his name was when I gave him to him. Hmm… Dick-munch? That’s odd. I wonder if he named him that because he had his dick munched on by The Hamburglar??? It wouldn’t surprise me with his history of biting. How on Earth would Hamburglar get to this guy’s dick to begin with. That is kind of weird.” As these thoughts were going through my mind, this guy began laughing hysterically in a form that resembled a bunch of uncontrollable, long gasps followed by dry heaves and coughing. When he composed himself to a state of being capable of speaking, he said with a smile that prompted me to ponder to myself about what kind of jackolantern I’d be carving for Halloween in a couple months, “Dick-munch is doin’ pretty good! He’s an ornery little shit, but we just love the hell outta that little hellian!” “That’s great, man! Glad he worked out for you,” I said. I’m glad this guy is able to love and care for something presumably capable of munching his dick.
So a couple years passed by since we had parted ways with the Hamburglar, when my wife began browsing Burlington Buy, Sell, Trade and noticed a kitten that we HAD to have. I was immediately apprehensive about it. My reaction to her idea was:
Me: Krystal, seriously. We don’t need a cat right now. Plus, if we needed one, the last place we need to seek one out is on Burlington Buy, Sell, Trade! If there is a pet listed for sale or free on that site, there is usually a REASON for it. This cat probably has rabies. In fact, The Hamburglar probably had rabies. Which means I probably have rabies because The Hamburglar bit my toes and feet so often!!
Annnnndddd my wife’s reaction to my reaction was:
MY WIFE:
Ughhhhhh gawwwshhhh….. I am SURE The Hamburglar didn’t have rabies and you don’t have rabies either. Goodness sake!!! WHY do you have to make a big deal and argue about EVERYTHING!?!?! Especially when it’s my idea, you HAVE to argue!!! I’m sure there is nothing wrong with the cat, you are just argumentative and paranoid about everything!!! We are getting this kitten. Gawwww!!!!!
So we got the kitten. This was inevitable, for my wife generally calls the shots and I, whilst being argumentative, usually always end up taking the “yes dear” stance. It was an orange, female kitten. We traveled to a little town called New London to pick her up. New London is located roughly 20 minutes from Mediapolis. She was a barn cat and my initial thoughts upon first meeting her were that she was just cuter than hell. Krystal was in love. She was excited and had a big smile on her face the entire ride home.
Induced by her own excitement, Krystal inquired, “oh my gosh!!! What should we name her?!???” I replied with, “up to you, dear.” She said, “how about Snarflebunz?!?!” Krystal and I both share an affinity for giving our pets weird names that we mutually consider to be funny. With that said, I thought this name was funny as hell and Krystal was brilliant for thinking of it. Without thinking twice, I said, “that is perfect!!!”
So we started on our way home. I jumped in the back middle seat and sat between my 1 and 2 year old daughters. I did this because I wanted to hold Snarflebunz for them because they were so eager to play with her. The ride was a joyous one which consisted of a lot of excitement and laughter from everyone in the car excluding Snarflebunz, until the final 5 minutes of the ride when this occurred:
As you can see, the ultra cute “Snarflebunz” decided to take a shit and piss on my crotch 5 minutes prior to arriving at our house. The smell was dreadful. Which obviously pissed me off and grossed my 2 year old daughter out so much that she began sobbing hysterically.And to think we were having the time of our lives in the seconds leading to this moment. My daughters and I were NOT HAPPY. Krystal, on the other hand thought this was absolutely hilarious, which prompted her to take that photo.
When this unfortunate event unfolded, my initial thought process was something along the lines of, “yup, with Burlington Buy, Sell Trade there is ALWAYS a catch when you are dealing with animals. Hmm…they say that when a cat selects a spot to piss and shit, it is impossible to break them from the habit and they will continue to piss and shit in that designated spot. If this cat has decided that my crotch is THE place it wants to piss and shit in the future, it may ignite enough fury inside of me to the point where I physically mutate into a beast with large sharp claws similar to Wolverine, and in a state of simultaneous rage and impulsiveness, I may end up forcible clawing at and ripping my own crotch off. Man, that would suck…I don’t want to be forced by my own rage to rip my crotch off!!!”
Snarflebunz got off to a shitty start with us and her stay with us ended up being a short one that lasted approximately a week and a half (how about those puns…”shitty” and “short”). At home, we couldn’t get her to go potty in her litter box. She insisted on shitting and pissing on our dirty laundry. So a couple days after picking up Snarflebunz, Krystal found another cat on Burlington Buy, Sell, Trade that we HAD to have. I actually approved of this one, for it was a Siamese kitten and I love Siamese cats and their unbelievable wisdom. We named the Siamese kitten, Penelope. Sounds like a pretty normal name for one of our pets, especially when compared to the likes of “Lieutenant Butt-cheeks, The Hamburglar and Snarflebunz.” We named her after Dan Aykroyd’s snooty, snobby girlfriend at the beginning of the movie “Trading Places.” The reason for naming her after this snobby brat was due to Penelope appearing to act “snobbish” towards Snarflebunz in the few days they lived together (combined with the fact that I am a huge “Trading Places” fan and was watching that movie every day on Netflix around that time).
Following a week and a half of having our laundry shit and pissed on, we ended up dropping Snarflebunz off at my parents’ farm, in which she established her new residency. This was more suitable for Snarflebunz, considering she was a farm cat to begin with. Not to mention, the feline society at my parents’ farm has gradually become more and more incest over the years. Therefore, my parents’ feline society at the farm was in need of a cat like Snarflebunz for purposes of making their cats less incest. Incest cats are obnoxious.
Penelope still lives with us. In my opinion, we actually managed to defy logic and find a keeper via Burlington Buy, Sell, Trade. Krystal freaking HATES Penelope though, but that’s a different story.
In the story, I failed to mention that the person I gave The Hamburglar to, was indeed, Rick “The Mullet Man.” Rick is a HUGE lover of pussies. He just loves to tickle them.
* NOTE: My next post is going to be a collection of puns and/or captions of the photo of Snarflebunz pooping and pissing on my crotch. If you want to add your own puns/captions, feel free to do so by commenting on this post, posting your comment via facebook, emailing me, etc. and I will include your pun/caption in my post and credit you for it. Feel free to have fun with me with this!!!!
[Reply]
