Remember when I was all, Please Jon can I have a new cat because they’re so cute and loving and I want one?

Yeah, well, that was the old me.

Also remember when Oscar was so sweet and innocent like this?

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Well, that was a lie too. This thing is in full-on cat asshattery mode. He sleeps like a rock then bounds awake and dive bombs your head. He attempts to jump into your lap but claws you when he misses and slides down your legs. He runs in front of you but jukes to the side so you’re either tripping or sending him flying.

He poops in the plant in the corner. And that’s dirty pool. That’s just foul.

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See this?

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Those books in the background are an attempt to block him out. He stands on the computer tower and drops himself HEADFIRST AND UPSIDE DOWN behind it, so he can utilize all his paws to rip the cords out.

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This I can handle.

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This I most definitely can not.

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(Fool’s gonna have a chilly nap one of these days if he doesn’t stop jumping in there.)

And I really shouldn’t complain. I’ve known for a while that I’m glutton for punishment. Lucy might have been the sweetest and dumbest cat God ever created, by she is not the norm by far. My norm is obnoxious cats who embody Stewie Griffin in feline form; and I am Lois.

But don’t worry: Aside from the fact that this little fartknocker here was free so technically wouldn’t be any financial loss if he ended up on the back porch, I wouldn’t ever do that.

After all, for almost a decade I’ve put up with the devil’s incarnate himself: Fatty Boombatty. And ain’t nothing compares to this beast.

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I don’t recommend breaking into our house, in case you had thought about it.

I’m just sayin’..

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