Definition of Fascism (courtesy of dictionary.com)
( sometimes initial capital letter ) a governmental system led by a dictator having complete power, forcibly suppressing opposition and criticism, regimenting all industry, commerce, etc., and emphasizing an aggressive nationalism and often racism.
Definition of Fascist (courtesy of dictionary.com)
a person (or animal) who believes in or sympathizes with fascism. Syn. cat (noun)
Definition of Cat (courtesy of dictionary.com)
See Fascist
People who love cats are truly capable of unconditional love. How else can you explain the (clearly misplaced) affection that some people feel for these over-indulged scratchy hairballs?
My experience with cats is thankfully limited but terrifying nonetheless. Let me introduce you to the Fascist Oppressors of my childhood...*some names have been changed to protect the innocent (me) from being harmed by the complicit (the cats' owners).
When I was young, about 6 or 7 I think, we looked after my Nan's cat Beau for a while. (Don't worry we gave him back in one piece - much to my dismay). Beau was the apple of my Nan's eye (which I'm sure he kept in a jar somewhere). He was such a sneaky bastard that he managed to convince us all that while we were to do his bidding, we were doing it of our own accord and he was just an innocent bystander who was in no way manipulating us.
"Oppressing you? Me? I'm just a cat...*licks balls*"...
Beau was just your average feline I think. He was just a bit ebil but not so ebil that you had any hard proof (even if you did - who could you report it to? I think the RSPCA generally tends to come down in favour of the animal in most circumstances).
It is Beau I have to thank for my introduction to the outside, inside trick. You know the classic, mewing til you let them out, then as soon as you have sat down, whinging to be let in again, only to repeat the whole process over again just as you've got comfy... Simon! You are not alone!
Beau eventually went back to my Nan and must have died at some point although I don't particularly remember mourning for him (sorry!). Either way, he's deffo not here now *looks over shoulder*.
Cue next angel of death...let's call him...errr..."Mephistopheles"... (I should say at this point that the owner of Mephistopheles* is a lovely lovely person but I think she would agree with me that she was comfortable having a sadist for a pet- she was very Goth at the time)...
My issue with this feline daemon was that he was such a c**k and my friend, misty-eyed with affection didn't seem to see it and appeared to value his comfort and well-being over mine. I don't blame my friend at all... I blame the cat.
One day, in my tender pre-teens, I went to stay at this friend's house. We had a fantastic time playing Sylvanian families, painting, dressing-up, making a mess of her parents lovely big house BUT all too soon bedtime, predictably, came around at about 10pm. We didn't mind too much because we were a tuckered out and had been allowed to stay up late anyway (oooo 10pm, rock on!).
I was sleeping on the floor of my friend's room on a little camp bed type thing, with one pillow. Yes. One. Pillow. We got ready for bed and settled down and, within about 5 minutes of trying, unsuccessfully, to support my head by other means, I decided to see if I could see another pillow, within easy reach.
Dilemma.
There was a very comfy looking pillow on the end of my friend's bed. Just waiting for me to pick it up. It looked to me like the kind of pillow that you would typically see on a HUMAN bed.
My mission: Extract the attractive, plump, feathery pillow from the foot of my friend's bed, without disturbing her. I didn't want to be impolite!
Imagine my shock then, when I went to gently drag it off the bed and had the following series of nasty surprises - happening in very quick succession.
1) I couldn't move the pillow very easily because it seemed to be attached to the bed by something alarmingly strong an inelastic.
2) Suddenly the pillow came free and was followed very quickly by a hitherto unnoticed set of claws. In my face.
3) Having managed to recover from this vicious attack, I identified the "cat" and realised that it was he who had been "holding onto" the pillow.
4) I errr "encouraged" him to back the hell off and sought comfort from my friend, not realising that Mephistopheles could do no wrong.
She, rather unfeelingly I thought, explained that it was my own fault for, and I quote, "stealing the cat's pillow".
THE CAT'S PILLOW!?
You see, you see how bloody twisted these creatures are? They manipulate you (you, not me, I ain't falling for that shiz!) that "all ur stuffs are belong to CAT".
Examples:
"Oppressing you? Me? I'm just a cat...*licks balls*"...
Beau was just your average feline I think. He was just a bit ebil but not so ebil that you had any hard proof (even if you did - who could you report it to? I think the RSPCA generally tends to come down in favour of the animal in most circumstances).
It is Beau I have to thank for my introduction to the outside, inside trick. You know the classic, mewing til you let them out, then as soon as you have sat down, whinging to be let in again, only to repeat the whole process over again just as you've got comfy... Simon! You are not alone!
Beau eventually went back to my Nan and must have died at some point although I don't particularly remember mourning for him (sorry!). Either way, he's deffo not here now *looks over shoulder*.
Cue next angel of death...let's call him...errr..."Mephistopheles"... (I should say at this point that the owner of Mephistopheles* is a lovely lovely person but I think she would agree with me that she was comfortable having a sadist for a pet- she was very Goth at the time)...
My issue with this feline daemon was that he was such a c**k and my friend, misty-eyed with affection didn't seem to see it and appeared to value his comfort and well-being over mine. I don't blame my friend at all... I blame the cat.
One day, in my tender pre-teens, I went to stay at this friend's house. We had a fantastic time playing Sylvanian families, painting, dressing-up, making a mess of her parents lovely big house BUT all too soon bedtime, predictably, came around at about 10pm. We didn't mind too much because we were a tuckered out and had been allowed to stay up late anyway (oooo 10pm, rock on!).
I was sleeping on the floor of my friend's room on a little camp bed type thing, with one pillow. Yes. One. Pillow. We got ready for bed and settled down and, within about 5 minutes of trying, unsuccessfully, to support my head by other means, I decided to see if I could see another pillow, within easy reach.
Dilemma.
There was a very comfy looking pillow on the end of my friend's bed. Just waiting for me to pick it up. It looked to me like the kind of pillow that you would typically see on a HUMAN bed.
My mission: Extract the attractive, plump, feathery pillow from the foot of my friend's bed, without disturbing her. I didn't want to be impolite!
Imagine my shock then, when I went to gently drag it off the bed and had the following series of nasty surprises - happening in very quick succession.
1) I couldn't move the pillow very easily because it seemed to be attached to the bed by something alarmingly strong an inelastic.
2) Suddenly the pillow came free and was followed very quickly by a hitherto unnoticed set of claws. In my face.
3) Having managed to recover from this vicious attack, I identified the "cat" and realised that it was he who had been "holding onto" the pillow.
4) I errr "encouraged" him to back the hell off and sought comfort from my friend, not realising that Mephistopheles could do no wrong.
She, rather unfeelingly I thought, explained that it was my own fault for, and I quote, "stealing the cat's pillow".
THE CAT'S PILLOW!?
You see, you see how bloody twisted these creatures are? They manipulate you (you, not me, I ain't falling for that shiz!) that "all ur stuffs are belong to CAT".
Examples:
 |
| Etcetera, etcetera...
FASCISTS!
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