The cat, Charles,is a complete bastard.
Since my Muse left in the summer, I have written only one poem and a bit of prose. Since I have nother better to put on this blog, I thought I'd complain about the cat.
I tried to take him inside and feed him last night, and the fat bastard savaged me. Charles really is very fat, three times the size of a normal cat. He's not even my cat, he just lives in the same house. All he does is eat and attack. Now that it is too cold for hunting, he fights the dogs. Damn his fluffy heart.
I miss Meow, my Vietnamese cat. He would not scratch me, only the wall and bed and table and chairs. He was gratefull for a sausage or a bit of cake.
Wish that he had not been eaten.
Need a better cat, or a new Muse.
If anyone reading this is an attractive and inspiring lady,or a pleasent cat, please come to Kendal immediately.
Some manner of cat-girl would be ideal.
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