Tell The Cat I’m Not Gay
The cat thinks I’m gay. Not that I really care what Rat-breath thinks but who knows who he’s talking to around the neighborhood? A guy can get a reputation.
For the record, I’m not. In fact, I was halfway to tagging the canary before he ate her. I know, officially the canary is just “missing” but Rat-breath’s not fooling me. They’re gonna find feathers in his stool, I’ll bet my favorite perch on that.
I don’t know where he got the idea I was gay. I like to hang out in the kitchen. So? Lots of straight birds spend their days eating sunflower seeds and watching soap operas. While wearing bright plaid flannel hats. Doesn’t make them gay. I admit I like to play with ribbon and the occasional bell but, again, that doesn’t prove anything. What, enjoying a little rattle-tattle every now and then means you don’t like to mate with chicks? That’s absurd! Just because I hang out on the couch each night cooing into a guy’s ear while he rubs his fingers across my belly and asks, “Who’s my pretty boy? Are you my pretty boy?” doesn’t prove anything either-- Okay, maybe that part does.
I’ll take a look at that part.
Comments (4)
Sick. That’s all I’m going to say.
Um Carl, have you ever heard the expression ‘Thou does protest too much’.
Carl, it is not nice to call a cat “Rat breath”. As a cat myself, I’d like you to remember that cat might find you tastier than the canary!
I don’t think your gay.