www.StuffOnMyCat.com Has Gone Too Far

I’ve been pushing www.StuffOnMyCat.com for the past couple months as a fun and family friendly pastime to indulge in heedless cooing of kittens. However, the site has taken a turn in the last few days with compels me to qualify my endorsement.

The site poses and, for the most part, proves the equation that stuff+cats=awesome. Harmless stuff like…

…wicker hats…

…a fitted yellow Snuggie thing…

…or another kitten’s kisses.

Absolutely adorable, without a doubt. And totally PG, unless you find kitten PDA offensive. However, recent postings have suggested a darker (but still furry) underbelly to the site.

For example, Tuesday featured “Latte”…

…in an image recalling the morally fraught Demi Moore in that scene from Indecent Proposal.

But we should give the site the benefit of the doubt. Without the pop culture reference, its just some bennies on a cat.

However, the same cannot be said for yesterday’s posting of “Big Fatty”…

We are officially over the line. That’s not cute. That’s a semi-automatic. 

Greed. Violence. Can fetish wear be close behind? 

Let us hope this was a mere aberration. Perhaps the site momentarily lost its way and maybe it’s wiser for it. Maybe the site found that the equation, stuff+cats=awesome, is not as sound as it initially seemed. Perhaps the equation could be adjusted, so that (some)stuff+cats=awesome, but (other)stuff+cats=disturbing.

Today, it seems www.StuffOnMyCat.com has returned to its heartwarming decency with poor “Boris” getting out of a box…

Awww. Look at those toes!

Excuses, Stuff on Cats

So yes, I’ve been delayed in completing my 2008 project to document every album I got that year. 3 reasons:

1. As expected, December was a doozey in terms of CD purchases. I think it’s at 26, but I think I’m intentionally ignoring a few. Did I really buy “Everything That Happens Will Happen Today”…uhg. Yes, I did. 27. And what am I doing with yet another Mark Lanegan album? Arg! He got me again. 28!

2. I am treading the uncertain waters of these economic times. I know: BORING. But at least I have 28 more CDs to sell. What is that, like 28 cents? 

3. I discovered a website and its two books devoted to the foundation-shaking equation: stuff+cats=awesome. Stuff like…

…really unfortunate glasses…

 

…really unfortunate holiday outfits…

…and the best stuff of all…

 

…another kitty!

Ah! I can’t take it. I am going to scream.

We’ve spent the last month devoted to our own attempts freighted feline photography (which, btw, is not easy). We humbly submit…  

Stuff On My Cat as stuff on my cat!

 

It’s totally meta. 

Don’t try this at home. We all have graduate degrees. And we’re probably infected.

So Cute I Could Puke

The prospect of documenting of my music consumption since March depresses me to no end. Instead, let’s look at pics of kitties. Aw…if hang you in there, little guy, so will I.

Aw…this one’s trying to get over the couch. But it’s so big and he’s so tiny and tired! What is he thinking in that kitten-kute brain…”I think I can.” But you can’t. And your futile ambition makes you 10X cuter.

Maybe my futile ambition to write about ever album I get this year makes me just as adorable?

I once read about the cat-carried parasite toxoplasma gondii.  Cats infect those close to them by tricking them into ingesting their pee or pooh.  The parasite migrates to the infected’s brain, altering the infected’s behavior so that the infected becomes unhealthfully attracted to cats. This is noted in the behavior of infected rats. Rats, who should be by all accounts on the other side of Dodge when kittie comes to town, when infected are found to be close to or even following kittens around.

Scientists realize that there is an evolutionary advantage for cats to carry and spread this parasite: so that may always have something nearby that they can kill and eat. Here’s the kicker: this parasite has also been found to infect humans and has been offered as an explanation for the irrational enthusiasm for kitty-pies exhibited by even the best of us.

Okay, so first I have to get over the distinct possibility that I have at one time or another ingested cat pee or pooh.

Fine, done.

Second, I have to get over what this has to say about affection in general. It insidiously pathologizes love. Is the enthusiasm we feel for an other not love, but an evolutionary trick so that we stick around long enough to give the other the opportunity to kill and eat us?

Fine, whatever.

But now I have to come terms with the likely fact that my kuddly buddies are waiting to digest me. I look at them, I see oodles of furry joy. But they see me as a tuna can soon to be opened.

Oh, well. I guess we all gotta go.  Not so bad to end up in this little guy’s bowl. 

Aw…he’s wet with a mohawk! I can’t stand it!