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Tifu My Poor Bilbo
9 years ago
General
A friend of mine, who is a totally awesome dood, sent me a JESUS METRIC HOLY CHRIST-TON of rum cake for Christmas last year which I am quite delighted by because rum cake is nummy. (Thank you again, btw, dood.) So, yesterday, I decided I wanted to have a piece. I grabbed the box labeled "Rum Swizzle" and went out into the kitchen. My cat, Bilbo, a pudgy gray tabby, saw this and followed after me because if I'm going out to the kitchen, that probably means "get food" or at least an opportunity to plant his fat ass in the middle of whatever I'm doing and "get attention." Those are his two main motivations in life- get food, get attention… and also wait for the exact !@#$%^&*ing moment I'm done cleaning the kitty shitter box before he goes in there and takes the most gnarly nose hair-curling dump he can muster.
Anyway, so, I proceeded to attempt opening the box. Mind you, there is a genetic predisposition in my family that renders our women utterly, totally, and entirely inept at opening things. It doesn't matter what it is. If it involves being opened, we will find some way to catastrophically fuck it up. Jars have shattered on floors, plastic shards have lacerated flesh, food has gone sailing overhead and splattered the cabinets behind, liquid has erupted skyward, and even simple doors occasionally pose a problem for women of my family- I mean WAY above the standard deviation for failing at opening things.
So I knew I was in for a fight. The cardboard opened easily enough. The tissue paper put up a bit of a struggle but I managed to persevere. The plastic, however, was a formidable foe and would not yield without a fight. I could have just grabbed a pair of scissors I suppose BUT THAT WOULD BE CHEATING! So I wrestled that villainous plastic into submission, reached in, grabbed that rum cake right by the ass, and yanked it out into the light of DAY! …only for it to cartwheel up my forearm like a Ferris wheel off its hinges.
I have NO IDEA why my reflex was to flail as the rum cake neared my elbow but that is exactly what I did and it went sailing into the air like a great, majestic donut, at which point, some woefully mistaken part of me still unwilling to accept the fact that I have NO coordination at all, thought "OOH! I CAN CATCH THAT AND IT WILL BE AWESOME!" I watched the rum cake rise as if in slow motion, enhaloed in shimmering honeyed god rays of sunlight. My hand came up, then down, my fingers clenched… NAILED IT!
Except I didn't because my fingers clenched like a second too late and instead, I ended up slam-dunking Bilbo right in the head. He scrambled away into the corner and glowered at me with the seething hatred of a thousand volcanoes. I can't say as I blame him. I mean, how would you feel if you were minding your own damn business only to find yourself on the receiving end of a random meteoric rum cake smiting? My dogs caught wind of this at which point they both ran out into the kitchen and froze, like… Dog.exe has stopped functioning because the conflict between wanting to "Hungry Hungry Hippo floorbound food" and "chase cat" fried their little doggy brains.
Thus commenced the great doggo-kitty turf war of 2017. There were dogs flying this way, cats sailing that way, skirmishes under the table, a battle on the couch, and a siege into the catlands behind the baby gate whereupon doggos were never meant to tread which ended in a stalemate behind the toilet. I was legitimately surprised the dogs opted to engage the cats over the rum cake but at least that allowed me sufficient time to scoop it up and see if it was salvageable.
Aside from a little cat hair, it was okay. I gave it a bath in some eggnog (would have used milk but we were out and not a single one of the fucknodules I live with thought to put it on the grocery list) then I set it in the oven for a bit because I was NOT about to let this big, beautiful rum cake be ruined by cat hair and kitchen floor detritus. It was surprisingly quite yummy heated up which is great but I think Bilbo probably won't be speaking to me for a while.
TL;DR: TIFU by slam-dunking my cat in the head with rum cake.
Anyway, so, I proceeded to attempt opening the box. Mind you, there is a genetic predisposition in my family that renders our women utterly, totally, and entirely inept at opening things. It doesn't matter what it is. If it involves being opened, we will find some way to catastrophically fuck it up. Jars have shattered on floors, plastic shards have lacerated flesh, food has gone sailing overhead and splattered the cabinets behind, liquid has erupted skyward, and even simple doors occasionally pose a problem for women of my family- I mean WAY above the standard deviation for failing at opening things.
So I knew I was in for a fight. The cardboard opened easily enough. The tissue paper put up a bit of a struggle but I managed to persevere. The plastic, however, was a formidable foe and would not yield without a fight. I could have just grabbed a pair of scissors I suppose BUT THAT WOULD BE CHEATING! So I wrestled that villainous plastic into submission, reached in, grabbed that rum cake right by the ass, and yanked it out into the light of DAY! …only for it to cartwheel up my forearm like a Ferris wheel off its hinges.
I have NO IDEA why my reflex was to flail as the rum cake neared my elbow but that is exactly what I did and it went sailing into the air like a great, majestic donut, at which point, some woefully mistaken part of me still unwilling to accept the fact that I have NO coordination at all, thought "OOH! I CAN CATCH THAT AND IT WILL BE AWESOME!" I watched the rum cake rise as if in slow motion, enhaloed in shimmering honeyed god rays of sunlight. My hand came up, then down, my fingers clenched… NAILED IT!
Except I didn't because my fingers clenched like a second too late and instead, I ended up slam-dunking Bilbo right in the head. He scrambled away into the corner and glowered at me with the seething hatred of a thousand volcanoes. I can't say as I blame him. I mean, how would you feel if you were minding your own damn business only to find yourself on the receiving end of a random meteoric rum cake smiting? My dogs caught wind of this at which point they both ran out into the kitchen and froze, like… Dog.exe has stopped functioning because the conflict between wanting to "Hungry Hungry Hippo floorbound food" and "chase cat" fried their little doggy brains.
Thus commenced the great doggo-kitty turf war of 2017. There were dogs flying this way, cats sailing that way, skirmishes under the table, a battle on the couch, and a siege into the catlands behind the baby gate whereupon doggos were never meant to tread which ended in a stalemate behind the toilet. I was legitimately surprised the dogs opted to engage the cats over the rum cake but at least that allowed me sufficient time to scoop it up and see if it was salvageable.
Aside from a little cat hair, it was okay. I gave it a bath in some eggnog (would have used milk but we were out and not a single one of the fucknodules I live with thought to put it on the grocery list) then I set it in the oven for a bit because I was NOT about to let this big, beautiful rum cake be ruined by cat hair and kitchen floor detritus. It was surprisingly quite yummy heated up which is great but I think Bilbo probably won't be speaking to me for a while.
TL;DR: TIFU by slam-dunking my cat in the head with rum cake.
Also, I think I also have that trait of being inept at opening things.
Poor Bilbo.
your kitty has my sympathies
PS: a pity I can't fav journals, I would fav this one.
As for cats, they will forgive, not because they have any ability to forgive, but because I think they just forget XD they're that air-headed.
You are right in numerous points too.
1. Cats will wait DAYS to use the liter box, till you clean it out Then push you out of the way to do their business. Then stare at you waiting for you to "get that mess cleaned up NOW"
2. A little cat hair should be considered part of your daily intake of fiber.....or at least roughage. I try to think of it as a dietary supplement you don't have to buy at GNC.
3. The predisposition to hurl foodstuffs into the air is widespread. I do it frequently (I have noted that the most tasty and desirable items are most likely to end on the floor.....nasty things NEVER fall.)
4. Rum Cakes are AWESOME !
Hope you have a great 2017.
Ugh, my cats do this too. Or one of them does anyway. It may mean that either you need a larger litter box, or should clean it more often. Cats don't like to try to bury their poop where poop is already buried, so if the place isn't clean, they may try to "hold it."
"Mind you, there is a genetic predisposition in my family that renders our women utterly, totally, and entirely inept at opening things."
Oh shit, that doesn't help with the current fad of "put everything into a hermetically-sealed clamshell of hard plastic that can't be torn apart and becomes incredibly sharp when cut!" I think... I think this trend is dying a bit -- I've noticed it less. As things get packed together more often, and are no longer hanging in a store in a large container with a small item so you can't shoplift it by shoving it in a pocket, maybe we'll return to the age when packaging wasn't so wasteful, bulky, and dangerous to open.
I know, right? :P I SHOULD NOT NEED A !@#$%^&*ING CHAIN SAW TO OPEN A PAIR OF TOENAIL CLIPPERS.
1) Shoplifting deterrence.
2) A package that can be hung on a hook in the store, with enough visible front to attract the eye.
Thank you for sharing this delightful snippet, and I share your pain when it comes to fucking up perfectly normal, natural, easy, mundane tasks in ways previously not thought possible.
I HAVE had my glasses spiked clean off my face in a volleyball game... so I suppose it wasn't completely unexpected. I considered it one more in a long line of occasions my faithful eyewear have been brutalized by random personages/events in my presence (and now and then, actually BY me - Usually not, oddly enough)
...I suppose I should also add that while unintentional insults and damage to animals has also followed me throughout the years (at a much lower rate that eyeglass brutality, thankfully), I have never spiked a cat (or other animal) with a rum cake (or other object). Yeah, my life has its own share of weirdness. ...You tell yours better, though.
To the rest of us . . . . it's just a cake. It's hilarious how you can describe such a mundane object
in such an epic fashion :D
Never again will I look upon Rum Cake the same way.
That's what got me...
"Stuff on my cat. Me-YOW!"
Would you believe me if I told you I managed to nail my cat in the head AGAIN, and yes, with rum cake, AGAIN? XD I went to go get a piece and on my way back to my room, I accidentally kicked the cat bet. Bilbo looked up at me with that righteously indignant "HOW DARE YOU!?" look only cats can pull of so I figured I would appease him by giving him scritches which he very much likes. I bent down to pet him and the rum cake toppled off my plate right onto his head! Needless to say, he was not very appeased. :P