His Name is Paul and He’s Imaginary. That doesn’t Mean He’s Not Real.

I know that I shouldn’t be putting this out there for you to judge because the internet is full of angry alpacas who are all like WHY CAN’T WE OPEN JARS!?! but I need you to settle a bet/ fulfill my need for validation.

I am not a crazy cat lady.

That’s not to say I don’t own a cat or anything. I have a cat. OK, there are two cats, but that’s ALL THE CATS. I just think cats are fucking great. It’s not even a thing. But I have my mom’s voice from lunch ringing in my ears while she chants “CAT LADY! CAT LADY!” while pointing at me. God.


This morning I’m standing in the kitchen in my pyjamas cutting up lemons and daydreaming out the window when I see a cat running up the road. Then a couple seconds later I see the mean cat of the neighborhood  run past, and is actually chasing the first cat.


So I think “Aw, HELL no!” and I go running down the street after these two cats.

By this point they’ve gotten a block up the street and the mean cat has cornered the first cat under a car. I come puffing up and start shooing the mean cat back down the steet (picture crouching and shooing hands) when I look down and realize…

I’ve just gone sprinting down the street, leaving my door *wide* open…

I’m shooing a *strange* cat home…

While wearing my pyjamas

Carrying a lemon in each hand


Actually, you know what? Maybe you should agree with my Mom. What the hell, me?

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  1. Katy Bug Says:

    You are my hero.

  2. Jeneral Insanity Says:

    I’m not entirely sure just yet, but I think I love you…

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