I have been placed in solitary confinement again for biting Angry Cat.
I still contend that the only reason Woman Who Feeds Me freaked out about this is that Angry Cat is white, and therefore the blood that was all over her was much more visible. When it comes to biting, Woman Who Feeds Me is so racist. I guess it will take time before the violence between the white cats and the Irish cats is finally eradicated. I plan to squeeze in as much violence as possible toward Angry Cat until that happens.
I just can't help it. Angry Cat irritates me. First, they call her "Snowball." What kind of stupid name is that? For a long time, I was utterly perplexed at this choice of name for Angry Cat. But then I remembered that when snowballs hit me, they do make me very angry. So I guess it might be a good name for her. Though it's a fairly labored metaphor. I doubt Woman Who Feeds Me is smart enough to have figured it out.
Then, she is constantly crying for food, even though she is rapidly approaching the size of Darth Fatty Fat Fatterson. And she always wants into the living room. Her method of attempting to access said room is to somersault her huge body into the door. This has never, ever worked. Though it does succeed in freaking out Woman Who Feeds Me. She thinks someone is in the house, knocking at the door. She watches too many horror movies. Just the other night she watched one called "Hotel for Dogs." It was terrifying and gave me nightmares.
I can't believe she let the children watch it. I guess there's a reason they call her The Wicked Step-Mother. As I have been locked in "the tower," I think I shall start calling her that, too. If she gives me an apple, please remind me not to eat it.
-Tink
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