bad kitty....
Posted: Tue Apr 25, 2006 5:55 pm
This is something that would happen to me, if I was a guy...:yh_rotfl
> Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable. No matter how
legitimate
>
>my excuse, I always get the feeling that my boss thinks I'm lying.
On
one
>
>recent occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway, because the
truth
>
>was just too darned humiliating. I simply mentioned that I had
sustained a
>
>head injury, and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day.
By
>
>then, I reasoned, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on
the
>
>top of my head. The accident occurred mainly because I had given in
to my
>
>wife's wishes to adopt a cute little kitty. Initially, the new
acquisition
>was no problem. Then one morning, I was taking my shower after
breakfast
>
>when I heard my wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen. "Honey!
The
>
>garbage disposal is dead again. Please come reset it." "You know
where the
>
>button is," I protested through the shower pitter-patter and steam.
>"Reset it yourself!" "But I'm scared!" she persisted. "What if it
starts
>going and sucks me in?" There was a meaningful pause and then,
"C'mon, it'll only
> take you a second."
>
>
>So out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping that my silent
>
>outraged nudity would make a statement about how I perceived her
behavior
>
>as extremely cowardly. Sighing loudly, I squatted down and stuck my
head
>
>under the sink to find the button. It is the last action I remember
>
>performing. It struck without warning, and without any respect to my
>
>circumstances. No, it wasn't the hexed disposal, drawing me into its
>
>gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, who discovered the
fascinating
>
>dangling objects she spied hanging between my legs. She had been
poised
>
>around the corner and stalked me as I reached under the sink. And,
at
the
>
>precise moment when I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I
>
>unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws. I
lost
>all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements, blindly
rising at a
>
>violent rate of speed, with the full weight of a kitten hanging from
my
>
>masculine region.
>
>
>
>Wild animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight" syndrome.
>Men, in this predicament, choose only the "flight" option. I know
this
>from experience. I was fleeing straight up into the air when the
sink
and
>cabinet bluntly and forcefully impeded my ascent. The impact knocked
me
>out cold.
>When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Now there
are
>
>not many things in this life worse than finding oneself lying on the
>
>kitchen floor buck naked in front of a group of "been-there,
done-that"
>
>paramedics. Even worse, having been fully briefed by my wife, the
>
>paramedics were all snorting loudly as they tried to conduct their
work,
>
>all the while trying to suppress their hysterical laughter.... .and
not
>
>succeeding. Somehow I lived through it all. A few days later I
finally
>made it back in to the office, where colleagues tried to coax an
explanation
>out of me about my head injury. I kept silent, claiming it was too
painful
>to talk about, which it was. "What's the matter?" They all asked,
"Cat got
your tongue?" If they only knew!
>Why is it that only the women laugh at this?
> Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable. No matter how
legitimate
>
>my excuse, I always get the feeling that my boss thinks I'm lying.
On
one
>
>recent occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway, because the
truth
>
>was just too darned humiliating. I simply mentioned that I had
sustained a
>
>head injury, and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day.
By
>
>then, I reasoned, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on
the
>
>top of my head. The accident occurred mainly because I had given in
to my
>
>wife's wishes to adopt a cute little kitty. Initially, the new
acquisition
>was no problem. Then one morning, I was taking my shower after
breakfast
>
>when I heard my wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen. "Honey!
The
>
>garbage disposal is dead again. Please come reset it." "You know
where the
>
>button is," I protested through the shower pitter-patter and steam.
>"Reset it yourself!" "But I'm scared!" she persisted. "What if it
starts
>going and sucks me in?" There was a meaningful pause and then,
"C'mon, it'll only
> take you a second."
>
>
>So out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping that my silent
>
>outraged nudity would make a statement about how I perceived her
behavior
>
>as extremely cowardly. Sighing loudly, I squatted down and stuck my
head
>
>under the sink to find the button. It is the last action I remember
>
>performing. It struck without warning, and without any respect to my
>
>circumstances. No, it wasn't the hexed disposal, drawing me into its
>
>gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, who discovered the
fascinating
>
>dangling objects she spied hanging between my legs. She had been
poised
>
>around the corner and stalked me as I reached under the sink. And,
at
the
>
>precise moment when I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I
>
>unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws. I
lost
>all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements, blindly
rising at a
>
>violent rate of speed, with the full weight of a kitten hanging from
my
>
>masculine region.
>
>
>
>Wild animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight" syndrome.
>Men, in this predicament, choose only the "flight" option. I know
this
>from experience. I was fleeing straight up into the air when the
sink
and
>cabinet bluntly and forcefully impeded my ascent. The impact knocked
me
>out cold.
>When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Now there
are
>
>not many things in this life worse than finding oneself lying on the
>
>kitchen floor buck naked in front of a group of "been-there,
done-that"
>
>paramedics. Even worse, having been fully briefed by my wife, the
>
>paramedics were all snorting loudly as they tried to conduct their
work,
>
>all the while trying to suppress their hysterical laughter.... .and
not
>
>succeeding. Somehow I lived through it all. A few days later I
finally
>made it back in to the office, where colleagues tried to coax an
explanation
>out of me about my head injury. I kept silent, claiming it was too
painful
>to talk about, which it was. "What's the matter?" They all asked,
"Cat got
your tongue?" If they only knew!
>Why is it that only the women laugh at this?
