Scardy cats and music competitions
About a week ago we got a cat… sort of. We’re watching it while the owners are getting tanned somewhere warm and snow free. The cat, Killer Kotten (for some reason), is one of those fancy cats and therefore he can’t go outside. Which I kind of agree with, not the fancy cats shouldn’t go outside part, but I think it’s kind of cruel to let your cat run around outside when you live in the city. I don’t think they teach kittens to look both ways before they cross the street.
Anyway, Kotten had been scratching the balcony door for two days and made it quite clear he was not a happy camper so I put a leash on him and went out on the balcony with the fur ball. To my great surprise he wouldn’t move an inch and after a few seconds he promptly turned around and wanted to go back inside. Now, it could have been the snow or the cold but considering he’s used to walking around on a leash outside when he’s home and the fact that he has a humungus amount of fur I don’t think that was the problem.
Yesterday I made another attempt at taking him outside, this time out to the parking lot to see my friends off after watching a music competition-thingy on TV (we’ll get to that in a minute) but I ended up having to carry him all the way. When we got back inside he kept giving me suspicious looks every time a walked near the front door and he hid under the bed until I went to bed. After this my only conclusion is that he is a big, furry, scardy cat (see what I did there? :P).
On to the music competition-thingy.
Every year the European countries have this thing called the Eurovision song contest and every year my country holds try-outs for this. It started out with one competition with 12 songs and have now escalated to, I think, six. To decide which songs get to go to these try-outs, a jury of some unknown number of people, with questionable taste in music, listen to like a gazillion songs and then pick their favorites. These favorites get to go and compete on TV and we, the people, get to vote on our own personal favorites. Now, the problem with this whole thing is that pretty much all the songs suck, the presenter is boring and try too hard and the acts during voting time leaves a lot to be desired.
So why, if I obviously don’t like it, did a watch this thing yesterday, you ask. Well, I kind of got duped into it. One of my friends – she has questionable taste in music too, if you were wondering – promised me dinner if we could watched it together. Turns out the promised dinner was to be held at my place along with the watching. I was left with dishes to clean and a contaminated TV on top of having to live through the horrors of crappy, PLAYBACK, music. I pretty much got screwed on all counts. I am plotting my revenge as I type, but so far I don’t have anything worth mentioning.
Much love and aneurysms
//C