Friday, March 25, 2016

A Literal Pissing Contest.

I'm tired today, guys.  Real tired.

Why is it that men feel the primal need to mark their territory?  I mean, that's essentially what an engagement ring is; the marking of a territory. This is seen in all levels of the animal kingdom.  I recently read that male hippos will pee and poop aggressively at the same time (not that impressive, I do this all the time) in front of a female to woo her.  This is just my luck.  If I was a female hippo (which I am like two days out of the month), I would probably end up picking the man with the weak flow and constipation.  Probably not the best choice for procreation, but hey, at least things won't get too messy.

Also (I've been watching a lot of Animal Planet), male Tilapia piss in the water and use those delicious potty pheromones to attract the ladies. Fingers crossed that Tilapia didn't eat asparagus for dinner.

Exhibit C: Male giraffes will sample a female giraffe's urine, like a fine wine, to determine whether or not she's fertile. Generally, you can tell I'm fertile by my level of road rage and bloat.

It's all about pissing contests and dominance in the animal kingdom.  In my bedroom, it's less about sexual dominance (unfortch) and more about cat pee.

My cat, Chunk, hates Sexypants so f*cking hard.  And Sexypants, in turn, isn't a huge fan of Chunk. Chunk is my numba one stunna.  He's the Kanye to my Kanye.  We've been through a lot together.  But, Chunk doesn't understand that he can't be the only man in my life.  Cause momma needs to get laid. Similarly, SP doesn't understand that I would sell both of my boobs, a kidney, my left hand, and at least half of my toes on the black market for Chunk.

When I first started dating Sexypants, I kind of assumed it wouldn't last, so I didn't put too much effort into forcing the two of them to be BFFs.  But, as time went on, it became pretty clear that they weren't loving each other. So, now, Chunk pees right by the door every time SP is over.  It's becoming an issue.  I feel like it's becoming a Pavlovian experience and soon I'm going to start associating sex with cleaning up cat pee.  That isn't good for anyone.

Chunk refused to sleep with us for the first few months.  Now, following his indiscreet urination on my floor, he will come back to bed and smush himself against my face as hard as he can.  This puts me in a testosterone sammich.  Snoring on one side, purring on the other.  Again, I'm real tired.

I need a bigger bed, Jackson Galaxy, an industrial grade steam cleaner, and a refill on my Xanax prescription.

I forced SP to give me a real gross dirty shirt for Chunk to sleep on... you know, for pheromones.  I also force him to give Chunk cookies and feed him. It's a good thing I roped him in with my fabulous vagina, because my cat lady status has escalated pretty hard.

Have a fabulous weekend, my lovelies - and don't pee on anyone.  That only works for Giraffes and jellyfish stings.



XOXO,
K

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