Cats love to poop!

So I have two cats. Killer and Baxter.

Baxter is about 10 years old and Killer is probably around half his age.
Both are relatively cute.

But you see, Baxter is also horrible.

He's territorial, and frightens Killer so much at times, that she "evacuates" all waste, wherever she might be.

This includes my parent's brand new white couch.  Why they would even fathom getting a white couch for my dirty family to sit on is beyond me.

It gets used excessively in that my little sisters spend literally their entire time at home on it, and switch between shows about teen psychics and haunted homes, and CSI:  Miami and Vegas.  If Teej and I want to watch a movie, it's the end of the goddamn world because one of my little sisters shouts: "I NEVER GET TO WATCH TV." "I'VE BEEN WAITING TO WATCH TV ALL DAY." "YOU ALWAYS WATCH TV." 

For the record, I don't like watching TV, and if I'm even at home, I'm resigned to my room doing awesome things like awrts and cwafts, and day dreaming, and thinking up movie ideas (hoping to execute them after getting AN EXTERNAL HARD DRIVE), and doing science, and if I'm having an exceptionally good day: playing video games. I'm not looking forward to their summer vacation, let's put it that way.  I do love The Mentalist though.  I can talk all damn day about The Mentalist.  Only, they keep saying Simon Baker's blonde, but he very clearly has red hair.  I wonder WHY.  Society, accept beautiful red hairs and LOOK AT HIS FACE.  "Chiseled by angels" as my cousin would say.

Oh yes, this was a story about cat poop.

Simon Baker takes me places, let's just say that.

So after my eldest sister "Crispy" [The Social Worker and Paragon of Sisterhood] became fed up with cleaning the cushions on the couch, she stormed up to me and said:  "The cats WILL STAY OUTSIDE, I'M TIRED OF CLEANING SHIT."
You can't argue with something like that.  Especially when I start dry heaving at the sight or smell of fresh cat excrement.  So all I could say was: "Baxter is fragile."

Now, I don't like Baxter.  But for some reason he follows me around and sleeps with me, so I have to feed him and change his litter.  We have a tumultuous relationship, but it kind of feels like he's my familiar when he follows me around everywhere, except when he tries running through my legs while I'm walking up the stairs.  People, you don't know the meaning of "HULK, SMASH" until your life is in danger and it's you or kitty.

But Crispy conceded to my sterling argument and bought two types of kitty REPELLENT.  It doesn't solve the problem of Baxter being the worst cat in the world, but at least she won't have to pick up Killer's poop off the white couch anymore.

One is called "Pet Organics: No Stay!  Furniture spray for cats."  Not only does it not work, but Killer actually found the smell to be pleasant.   "Oh how soothing."  She emotes.   

So we bring in the heavy duty stuff.  Killer sniffs it and says "Um, no no." and runs away.  Bingo.

I spray the next stuff on the couch: "Boundary: indoor/outdoor cat repellent pump spray. Helps keep dogs away too!"  It's on, and I'm like PEW! Then "OH GOD. OH-OH GOOOODDD!"
"It came in a wave"  Teej says.
"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!"  Says me.
"Hmmm...  Well, on that note, time to leave!"  And he bolts.  As I'm typing this, I can smell it from about 20 feet away.  My lungs hurt and I'm pretty sure much of it is in my nasal passage.

So I look at the bottle "HAZARD TO HUMANS AND DOMESTIC ANIMALS."


It turns out this shit is HIGHLY TOXIC.  "ENVIRONMENTAL HAZARD, DO NOT APPLY DIRECTLY TO WATER." 

What!?

The horrible smell is still there, but considering it's now a "human repellent" too, maybe I can get my little sisters to finally play outside.

That's the moral to the story I guess.

Use horrible, harsh chemicals to keep all living things at bay.  This way, you can get loved ones away from awful television shows.

In Soviet Russia, bad jokes... are bad jokes.