It's always something...

On Saturday my car battery died after I forgot to turn my headlights off. So I waited around for my new best friend, my English counterpart, to come over to jump my car. All in all not that bad of an experience, but it totally shows you how fucking dependent you are on this random piece of machinery that just burns any money you might have with gasoline and insurance. Without a car in L.A., you might as well start walking through the desert with Moses because you aren't getting anywhere.

You could take the bus, but the public transportation system here is apparantly so abhorrent that third-world countries look at it and laugh at our ineptitude.

But that hassle was nothing compared to what I found on my bed last night.

My roommate is a reserved shy girl in her late 20's. Doesn't date much, has a few friends, and has a pretty dykey haircut.

And she's a cat-lady in training....

Cat-ladies have funny-smelling houses, twenty cats, and a propsenity to constantly baby talk to their pets. In other words, they're fucking obsessed with their cats, and that's just fucking wierd.

Mandy has three cats. Three. Who needs three cats?! NO ONE!

If youre that lonely, I recommend sex websites. or religion. or go to AA meetings and pose as an addict.

Actually do they have a pets-anonymous?! Well, there should be one! Because at what point do you not realize that having more than 2 cats is just ridiculous.

When I first moved in, there was the understanding there'd be only one. One I can handle because I can throw shoes at it and create the understanding that there will be no relationship other than co-habitation.

I totally hate cats because they're like women/gay men. They're moody, bitchy, irritable, capricious, and vascillate between purring and attempting to claw your eyes out.
If I wanted that kind of behavior, I'd work in a gay bar again or join a soriority.

Well anyway, one of her fucking cats took a diaherritic shit on my down comforter. It soaked through the duvet, comforter, and stained my sheets.

So I told her this morning and she's like.

"Oh thats really gross." and the bitch walks out the door to work.

Tonight she's getting a bill and I've declared war on the cats.