So here we are in the first of a series of television related rants. I felt the need to split these up seeing as how I can't seem to make enough time in the day to publish a nice long juicy post. Couple that with the fact that each of these little TV nuisances provides me with a full day's worth of frustration, nudging me ever-closer to spending the remainder of my days with just my wife, my baby, and my computer; relinquishing myself from the indentured servitude of commercial and/or pay television. Anyway, on with the show.
FYI, the trademarks (i.e. ™) were gumming up the works, so they're omitted. I'd appreciate it if the two of you still reading this blog would be so kind as to not report my infringement.
Now here's a small test for you.
Which of these delectable meals was manufactured for cats, and which one was manufactured for human consumption.
Answer: The food item on the left is cat food... on the right is risotto primavera.
My point being this, at which point did we decide that our cats should eat better than we do? Are they not prone to tongue-bathing their own asses? Do they not mate like rabid furr-banshees, making noises akin to a stuck pig in salt water? How did the cat go from the preferred "I can leave it home by itself" animal, to the Mooby of pets?
Don't ask him. He doesn't know.
Now I'm all for good pet nutrition. I've bought my fair share of Free Range Organic Hill's Science-Diet where applicable to any given pet. I can appreciate the complexity necessary to balance a diet of hair, white dog shit, and small Peruvian lizards.
But lavish and extravagant vittles for an animal who'd kill it's own mother to grasp laser light? It just doesn't add up.Why in this day and age is there still a vast global famine, yet we feel compelled to dish up restaurant quality meals for ol' Boots here?
It's not to say that I can't appreciate cats, or the need to spoil them like children. But it all has a sort of Douglas Adams stink to it, in that someday, when it's all said and done and we're on the brink of Armageddon. The cats will leave us with a nice "so long, and thanks for all the fish".
Maybe it's just me, maybe I'm just being jealous.
After all, I eat goddamn Chef Boyardee. No! Scratch that. I eat whatever bastardized version of Chef Boyardee I can afford at Wal-Mart for 97¢ a can. And it sucks. But it's cheap, and you can survive off of it. In fact, it's probably closer to actual cat food than that hoity-toity bullshit pictured above.
Christ, I just can't take it anymore.
The real crotch-kicker here is that I love cats!?!! So the only people left to blame are the money-grubbing bastards at Purina. It's like they're preying on little old ladies who have personified their pets to the point of Waterford Crystal collars and self-scooping robotic litter boxes. So knock it off Purina! Leave the exploitation of the elderly to organized religion, the Hoveround, and CBS.
Jimmy out!
P.S. Next time: The ol' switcheroo! For now, a souffle.
Oh yeah.
That's right.
It's cat food.....
Posts
