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- Apr 27, 2015
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They say the first step is admitting you have a problem, so . . . .
Hello, my name is Lavish Squalor and I have a problem.
Last night I went to dinner with a group of friends, one of whom had recently been dumped. To pamper herself and allay any feelings of impending spinsterdom, she had splurged and bought a ridiculously expensive bottle of Bond No 9 perfume. All night long she kept shoving her wrist in my face and insisting in a brash drunken voice--"SMELL ME! SMELL ME!"
Well, the more alcohol she consumed the worse it got, and the more alcohol I consumed the shorter my patience grew. When she tried thrusting her appendage under my nose one too many times, I batted her away and yelled out, "OH MY GOD, STOP! JUST STOP! My freakin' cat smells better than your damn wrist!"
Needless to say, such an unusual declaration certainly drew the attention of the table.
The thing is, god help me, it’s true.
I don't know what it is, but Atticus, my nine-month-old grey tabby kitten, smells completely and utterly delicious. I can spend hour after hour with my nose buried in his fur, just breathing in the intoxicating, nutty, clean fragrance of his cold fur.
Er, naturally, this is a somewhat illicit act and not one that I would indulge in while in the company of others. But given the amount of alcohol we'd all imbibed and the scandalous nature of my declaration, we all ended up back at my house passing poor Atticus around like the drug he is.
Curiously enough, two people thought that he just smelled like any other cat, while the other three in our party smelled precisely what I smell. One person claimed he smelled like sun-warmed butternut squash growing in a garden, while the other took a big whiff and exclaimed, "Oh my god, he smells like a newborn baby!" (I had to check that one's purse before she left.)
As if this admission of cat huffing weren’t bad enough, my partner, who has no idea of my particular penchant, happened to walk in last night while we were all sitting in a collective drunken sprawl, saying things like, “No, no, no, you’re not sniffing in the right spot! You gotta’ sniff him there.” None of us saw my better half walk in, so god only knows what he thought we were doing.
Now that I’m out of the closet (yet once again), I’m wondering if any of you have delicious smelling cats too.
Surely, I can’t be totally alone in this.
Hello, my name is Lavish Squalor and I have a problem.
Last night I went to dinner with a group of friends, one of whom had recently been dumped. To pamper herself and allay any feelings of impending spinsterdom, she had splurged and bought a ridiculously expensive bottle of Bond No 9 perfume. All night long she kept shoving her wrist in my face and insisting in a brash drunken voice--"SMELL ME! SMELL ME!"
Well, the more alcohol she consumed the worse it got, and the more alcohol I consumed the shorter my patience grew. When she tried thrusting her appendage under my nose one too many times, I batted her away and yelled out, "OH MY GOD, STOP! JUST STOP! My freakin' cat smells better than your damn wrist!"
Needless to say, such an unusual declaration certainly drew the attention of the table.
The thing is, god help me, it’s true.
I don't know what it is, but Atticus, my nine-month-old grey tabby kitten, smells completely and utterly delicious. I can spend hour after hour with my nose buried in his fur, just breathing in the intoxicating, nutty, clean fragrance of his cold fur.
Er, naturally, this is a somewhat illicit act and not one that I would indulge in while in the company of others. But given the amount of alcohol we'd all imbibed and the scandalous nature of my declaration, we all ended up back at my house passing poor Atticus around like the drug he is.
Curiously enough, two people thought that he just smelled like any other cat, while the other three in our party smelled precisely what I smell. One person claimed he smelled like sun-warmed butternut squash growing in a garden, while the other took a big whiff and exclaimed, "Oh my god, he smells like a newborn baby!" (I had to check that one's purse before she left.)
As if this admission of cat huffing weren’t bad enough, my partner, who has no idea of my particular penchant, happened to walk in last night while we were all sitting in a collective drunken sprawl, saying things like, “No, no, no, you’re not sniffing in the right spot! You gotta’ sniff him there.” None of us saw my better half walk in, so god only knows what he thought we were doing.
Now that I’m out of the closet (yet once again), I’m wondering if any of you have delicious smelling cats too.
Surely, I can’t be totally alone in this.
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