Cat Reviews. Today: BOSS.

Every cunt likes a cat. If they don’t, they like dogs, and never the twain shall meet. I am the leading expert on cats and that, having been seeing them for thirty years. The first cat ever, was Des, my black cat what died in 2007. He wrote the book on cats. And I read the shit out of it.

Anyway, in a new series of completely pointless ideas, I intend to review the cats I see. If nobody did, you wouldn’t know which cats were the best, would you? We’ll start with this sack of cat, Boss. Boss is about five years old, and a fairly sizable domestic short hair. He’s like the Argos version of cats. Not Tesco Value. Argos. You wouldn’t find him in the 99p bin in Woolworths (If it was still there), but he wouldn’t be in the premium section either. He’s the Weekend at Bernie’s 2 of cats. Let’s see more about him.

BOSS was named by my sister, without his owners knowing. Having decided that our name was better, we now know him as Boss. He’s got a face that is a rather disappointing ink-blot, a generic smear, his features ungainly, he is the Nicholas Lyndhurst of cats. He doesn’t really resemble a cat, either. He doesn’t have a classic cat’s face, more a sort of mocking painting that became sombre half way through. His facial splodge looks like the sort of thing a psychopath would be shown on an ink blot card in a counseling session. His hunting credentials are poor, being as he is as mobile as a shattered clay pot. He’s shit at moving. He’s got the turning circle of a boat, and the agility of a melting shoe. He’s shit at being a cat, and SURELY THAT’S WHAT IT’S ALL ABOUT?

He may not even be a he at all. In 2004, or whenever it fucking was, Boss ballooned in weight rapidly. This let to speculation by my sister and I that he was gestating a sack of babies like some sort of Cat Aliens rip off. Without flipping him over and checking for a ball bag and cock, we’ll never know. Don’t think the neighbours would like that.

To summarise, Boss is a cat what is neither good nor bad. He’s the Jamiroquai of cats.

Actually I take that back. Jamiroquai is fucking shit.

5/10. Now fuck off.

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About neilstilwell

Abseiling into trouble, a sewer rat staring at the stars. Disgusting. You can assist my search for the one ring by buying a Kindle version of this diary from here. http://www.amazon.co.uk/frozen-fridge-Zoomeister-Diaries-ebook/dp/B00C426DD0/ref=sr_1_sc_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1366481719&sr=8-1-spell&keywords=a+frozen+turd+in+a+hot+frudge It has some other stuff in it, and a dreadful cover.
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2 Responses to Cat Reviews. Today: BOSS.

  1. dawnie says:

    This is genius! 🙂

  2. Reading this I realised that I inadvertently fulfil the quota for what it takes to be a cunt. Ta.

    Also, always wanted to see what a feline equivalent of Argos looked like. And now I have. This is a momentous day, indeed.

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