In thinking of reasons why a woman might not date me, I came up with this silly poem. This is my attempt to recharge the humorous poetry in my brain. This is fictitious, but I think it is a real sentiment. More to come…
HER CAT MUST BE AWESOME
© 2010 Mike McGee
She has to get home to feed her cat and I’m thinking, ‘Your cat is fine. It will survive a night without you.’
She says, “He can’t be alone overnight.”
I tell her I feel the same way all the time. And I actually have something to offer the world.
She says her cat’s special. It sounds like he’s saying ‘Reno’ when he meows.
“Reno?” I ask. As in “Reno, Nevada?”
“Yep.” She says emphatically. “Reno.”
“All the time? As in every time it meows?”
“No, only every once in a while, like when he’s really craving attention or needs to be brushed.”
“Oh.” I say. Oh.
I tell her that when I’m craving attention, I take my shirt off, exposing the Katherine Hepburn-shaped birthmark on my stomach and make it talk: ‘Hello, everybody! Got any more tequila?’
I just met you and I by now you must realize I am human and I have needs and I can love you, actually love you. I’m not jumping the gun here, but I am capable of real love, not this programmed feline, ‘you’re the keeper of the food, so I guess I’ll stick around,’ bullshit.
Does your cat have the ability to make a room laugh without it having anything to do with its own failure? Can it use a QWERTY keyboard? Does it understand how to code even a modicum of HTML? Can it Photoshop images of you to look like you have a handlebar mustache? I don’t thinks so!
I can do half of those things while I have soup cooking on the stove. See these thumbs!? Do you? DO YOU!!? These mean I win.
“You’re right.” She says coyly. And we boned right there at Taco Bell. Nine months later, we had 8 kittens.
They run my website now.
———
Word to the nerd.
Bunny up.
