A tale of cat turds and extra sensory perception

Last night, it was snowing like a bastard so I went outside and moved my car to make it easier to get out when I left for work this morning. I cleared the snow off the car, hopped in, and started it up. Then I smelled the strong, pungent, unmistakable stench of shit in my car, like I had stepped in it and brought the foul stuff into the vehicle with me. But, strangely enough, I hadn’t. There was no shit anywhere. Not on my boots, not in my car, not anywhere I had walked in the snow. I shrugged and put it out of my mind, and finished what I was doing.

I went back inside the house a minute or so later to find Jenn coming down the stairs, holding our cat as far away from herself as she could, proclaiming that he had just shat in our bed, and was continuing to shit as she carried him outside. That’s right, the cat shit in our bed. He’s an old barn cat named Masuku who has always loved to come inside whenever we allow it, and Jenn thought we should bring him in last night on account of the inclement weather. But I guess it’s been so long since he’s been inside that he has forgotten what is expected of him there, and Jenn said she walked into our bedroom to see him squatting right in the middle of all our blankets, confidently releasing his bowels into our most intimate of spaces. It wasn’t like he was terrified and spraying diarrhea; no, these were fully-formed solid turds he was depositing, and continued to deposit as Jenn rushed down the stairs with him.

That will be the last time Masuku is ever allowed in the house. He really went out in a blaze of glory. Much manic cleaning ensued.

That’s a gross little story in itself but for me, the most fascinating aspect of this debacle is that I inexplicably smelled shit in my car right around the moment Masuku shat in my bed. How strange. I was just saying to someone recently that there was a period in my life a few years ago where I experienced several strange coincidences that really made me go, “whoah, this is spooky.” I wrote about some of those things here and here. I’ve gone a long time without experiencing anything spooky so as much as I want to puke at the memory of our damn cat shitting in our bed and down the stairs, I have to be grateful for — and try to focus on — the cool, mysterious experience related to it.


Huh. Apparently it’s a thing. How about that.


the trolls of blabbermouth – definitely not my ‘metal brothers’

the comments section of blabbermouth.net is at times the funniest and other times most depressing thing i have ever seen on the internet.

home to the greatest global collection of knuckleheads, sexists, and defensive, terrified wimps

for those that don’t know, blabbermouth is a heavy metal/hard rock news website. it used to allow almost totally anonymous commenting on each story. back then, racism, sexism, etc abounded. the site was a magnet for the dumbest fucks you could have the displeasure of knowing they existed.

at one point, some female singer from a shitty band i can’t remember made a comment about what imbeciles blabbermouth commenters were. of course blabbermouth posted the story and the comments section exploded with all kinds of misogyny and hatred. i couldn’t believe the site was allowing outright sexism despite the disclaimer on each page of the site that said any intolerant or hateful comments would result in the poster being banned. i emailed the site moderator about this several times but never heard back.

not too long after this incident though, the site underwent a facelift and has since required people to use their facebook account to comment. this lack of total anonymity has cut down on a lot of the bullshit but make no mistake, the place is still a hotbed of stupidity. i just read a story on babymetal (who fucking rule) and there are all kinds of asinine comments. one that particularly gets me is

just further proof that musical taste is in the shitter here, metal brothers. Sigh.

fuck right off, mr james hensler (the idiot who posted that comment). i like a lot of metal but i’m not your fucking brother. liking a style of music doesn’t mean we have anything else in common. furthermore, i probably don’t even like the same metal you do. you probably like total fucking garbage.

then there are comments like “the only people who like babymetal are disgusting pedophiles,” which is so incredibly stupid that i can’t even believe i’m addressing it. that’s like saying “everyone who has a dog is into bestiality” or “any man who likes metallica must be gay since there are men in metallica.” it’s a bit of a fucking stretch that totally defies any logic but that’s the sort of MENSA-caliber argument you routinely see in blabbermouth comments.

at the very least, if people are going to hate on something, i wish they would supply some kind of cohesive statement or observation so there could be a legit conversation instead of a few primates just slinging their own feces back and forth at each other. like, instead of “this shit aint TR00 METAL, are you with me metal brothers”, they could say something like “the vocals are off-key” or “the stage show is boring, they don’t even move” or “i don’t relate to these lyrics at all.” just say something halfway fucking intelligent, that’s all.

like i do with this non-stop bitchfest blog of mine.