Chronicles of ThatGoddamnedCat – Bobbing for Bunnies in the River Styx

I’m posting this for those of you who are following and are-not-horrified by the Adventures of ThatGoddamnedCat. This particular episode was tucked away in Junes draft folder somewhere around Father’s Day.

However, this is not exactly a Father’s Day post, because I very wisely had ThatGoddamnedCats testicles decommissioned as a kitten.

God knows one of him is enough.

The world is most welcome!

Anyway,

The serial killing feline asshole… has strucketh again.

In my defense, several weeks ago I swear that I absolutely wrote, “Buy collar with bell for asshole cat” on my TO DO list.

I just hadn’t gotten around to crossing it off yet, and for that I’m very sorry Mr. Rabbit.

May you RIP.

I didn’t actually find him all festively decked out in a party hat waving a magic wand. I took the liberty of adding a few photoshop extras, so he’d appear less gruesome and… dead in a somewhat happier light.

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He probably would’ve wanted it that way.

Bunnies are promiscuous party animals from way back.

The quarter however, is the real deal though. The shiny disc, is in fact, 25 cents that I deliberately placed on his shoulder so you could better comprehend just how freaking ginormous bunnyzilla is.

Relatively speaking I mean – in relation to TGC’s body weight.

I’m not exactly sure how many ounces my Jack-the-ripper feline has on this guy, but I’m guessing not too many – making Mr. Rabbit by far his largest kill to date.

I do feel bad about Mr. Rabbit I really do, but nonetheless I’m pretty impressed.

When I carefully instructed my son to bury Mr. Rabbits remains with the 25 cent piece, he wittingly replied, “Good, he’ll need it to pay his toll to the river Styx.”

Me – you don’t say.

This apparently, is a toll paid upon ones demise – in order to travel to the underworld of the afterlife… or something like that.

I shit you not.

My bright offspring are full of obscure trivia.

Who knew?

That guy is damned lucky I found him and thought to provide him with underworld fare.

The moral of the story – never leave home without a quarter in your pocket or it’s possible you’ll be up Shits creek or possibly the river Styx… without a paddle.

Chapter Two – The Unexpected

I bet you weren’t expecting a sequel to “The Adventures of ThatGoddamnedCat- Bobbing for Bunnies in the River Styx, because… neither was I.

I had hoped it was the last we’d seen of Mr. Rabbit after I’d carefully instructed my son to bury him WITH his shiny quarter that-was-actually-toll-for-the-river-Styx.

But nope.

His saga lives on, although you won’t see him again, because he’s vanished.

By vanished I mean Mr. Rabbit has vacated the garden… did like a baby and headed out, blew that Popsicle stand, did like a tree and leaved(?)…

Since I KNOW-for-an-absolute-fact that my diligent children did not let our German Shepherd indulge in a bunny snack that was not a tidy approved canine snack shaped like a bone from a colorful box, I’m going to speculate what happened to him.

You call it denial. I call it creative writing therapy so-I-don’t-wig-the-fuck-out.

*He hitched a ride to Pet Semetary for a proper burial. (Can’t blame him)

*He was actually the Jesus Easter Bunny and he rose from the dead.

*He turned into Zombie Rabbit and will be coming for TGC soon. (In which case, this story is about to get good!)

*The Jehovah’s witnesses saw him as they headed down my walkway and decided he needed to be saved.

*The postal carrier decided to mail him back to Max and Ruby, so they could have closure.

*A bald eagle swooped down and carried him to Bunny Heaven, but kept his party hat to conceal his middle-age male pattern baldness.

*Elmer Fudd finally bagged him, in which case he’s on display over at Acme Caskets.

Anyway,

He’s gone and I’ve convinced myself beyond the shadow of a doubt that he. will. not. resurface. in. doggy. vomit.

No.

The end.

 

Cartoons I Banned Forever

I exercised my God-given parental right to BAN the following horrendously loud and obnoxious cartoons from my home forever.

These shows are kind of (mostly) outdated because my children are already teens, which means yes, I just celebrated my halfway-to-dead birthday.

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1. N繳mero UNO is Space Jam.

The incessant dull roar of basketball court noise and squeeeaky athletic shoes has always been like a hot molten jellyfish massage directly to my grey matter.

I’m sure it’s due to some sort of auditory hypersensitivity. I’m a sensory weirdo like that. I’m SPECIAL.

I cannot tune in without my hair standing straight up and my entire body freezing like a stone statue of a Greek goddess.

I threw the Greek goddess part in there to make myself seem cool and less weirdo-like.

Add screechy Looney Tune characters to the above mix, and I have one foot over the edge of the highest steepest cliff.

2. Ditto for Animaniacs.

What’s more serene than obnoxious Tasmanian devils with ADHD strung out on Starbucks?

“Would you like red-hot pokers jabbed in your eyeballs with that?”

I’ll pass.

3. Phineas and Ferb- I don’t know if it’s primarily the painfully excruciating theme song that sounds like Alvin and the Chipmunks swallowed a tank of helium or the intensely grating voices of the main characters.

By grating, I mean the sharp ouchie metal apparatus that’s used for slicing cheese. The one responsible for you shredding your knuckle every single time you attempt to slice mozzarella.

Naturally, you throw it on the pizza anyway, because what your family doesn’t know can’t hurt them.

Grate:not to be confused with anything great or even remotely awesome.

4. Sponge Bob– I used to like tolerate it when it was the new show on the block, but the voices soon became the equivalent of an angry beehive trapped in my brain with accompanying fiery darts in my eyeballs.

The biggest offenders are the square high pitched yellow contraceptive device himself and Squidward aka rotten calamari. Mr Doom and Gloom. Patrick is pretty much a harmless dork. He’s Lenny from Of Mice and Men, except pink and star shaped. You can’t hate Patrick. He’s too pitiful. Patrick needs a hug. I’d totally adopt that dorkster guy.

Enough said.

Conclusion- Some cartoons can cause seizures and/or brain damage.

The key is to make wise selections.

We’re talking soft, low pitched voices, minimal screaming, and background music that could be played in the library or perhaps a funeral home.

Nap-time music.

Lullaby cartoons. “You are getting very sleeeeeeepy…”

The winners are- (again.. outdated stuff from the 90’s)

1. Little Bear
2. Max and Ruby
3. Little Bill
4. Caillou

The duller the better.

Even if Max and Ruby ARE orphaned bunnies who’s parents we’re probably buried deep beneath the carrot patch and we all know Ruby totally DID IT, so she could fill in as the bossy mom to fulfill her overwhelming need to be loved and respected.

Ruby may be a serial killer, but the fact of the matter is… her show is pleasant and tranquilly quiet. It meets the requirements.

Even if it is the crazy lady kinda quiet- like before she finally loses it and turns into Lizzie Bordon killing her parents and burying them in the carrot patch.

Scratch that. Whatthehell am I even thinking??

We all know Ruby wouldn’t bury the bodies HERSELF and get her prissy bunny paws dirty. She’d get Max to dig her parents garden graves.
Ruby’s one sick puppy.

Although, that’s not the point here. We’re trying to get a kid to sleep. Serial killing big bunny sisters can be overlooked when you’re trying to get your OWN child to nap or just play dead for 20 blissful minutes.

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Hell to the yeah.

So, there’s my official review on 90’s cartoons.

The good, the bad and the ugly.

 

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