How I Became An Urban Legend

I went to visit Mildred last weekend.  I crossed at least three different bodies of water to cuddle with my kitty-to-be.  She’s even cuter in person.

Kittehs. Yum.

Let me tell you, sitting on the floor while seven kittens climb all over your legs is just about the best mood enhancer ever.

Unless you’re wearing low rise jeans.

Sitting indian style on the floor.  (Do we still call it indian style?  Somehow that seems insensitive.  I’m nothing if not politically correct and demure, you know.  Just pretend I said cross-legged, k?)

And you’re butt cleavage is in full effect.  But you don’t sweat it because you’ve got your back towards the corner.  No one will be visually affronted.  The sagging flap of your waistband balloons behind you, creating a perfect kitten size nook.

And while you’re distracted by six adorable mewing balls of fur, an extra curious kitten crawls into said nook.

And you try to act all cool and nonchalant about having a furry wriggling kitten in your ass crack, but it’s not easy.  In fact, it kind of feels nice for two seconds and there might even be a little giggling involved.  But it’s weird and you want it to end.  Plus you don’t really want the kitten’s mama’s mama to get the wrong impression of why you want to adopt a kitten.  So you shift your weight slightly so you can reach around to pull the tiny fury wriggling kitten out of your pants with your free hand.

But the kitten doesn’t like the way you moved.  It decides it wants to leave the safe warm nook of denim and ass crack it previously found so inviting.  IMMEDIATELY.

But it gets stuck.

And freaks the fuck out.

And claws it’s way OUT of your ass crack, over the sagging flap of your jeans, and onto the floor while you shriek in pain and embarrassment, hoping against hope that maybe the kitten’s mama’s mama didn’t notice your howling.

And then you realize you can’t ever crack another Richard Gere joke again.


  1. You might think that’s what happened, but did you check your wallet?

    That’s right. He wasn’t cuddling. He was pickpocketing. Momma was watching to make sure you didn’t catch on. He’s off to buy toilet paper rolls and string on *your* dime now.

    Cats are hustlers.

    Not the magazine Hustler, that’s different, although they both contain a lot of pussy.
    .-= KeepingYouAwake´s last blog ..I Don’t Care if you Watch TV =-.

  2. a.) you did an amazing job of not. once. ever. using the word ‘pussy’ in this post and b.) my daughter’s politically correct classroom refers to it as ‘criss cross applesauce’ which may be more pc for native americans, but I think it is pissing off the apple people.
    .-= marymac´s last blog ..Concrete Jungle Where Dreams Are Made Of =-.

  3. *LMAO*
    Imagine if you had tried to stand up… it might have fallen into your jeans.. boy oh boy would that have been interesting….
    I can only imagine how you explain how the scratches got on your ass *LOL*
    .-= Barb´s last blog ..Happy Birthday Jenny =-.

  4. (1) Okay, just try to explain THOSE scratch marks to Rocco.
    (2) Serves you right for your cruel and uncharitable thoughts about Richard Gere. He KNOWS people, people in HIGH PLACES, who control things like KARMA. Things are clearer now, aren’t they?
    .-= Debra She Who Seeks´s last blog ..Career Day at Church =-.

  5. Okay, so I have been having a horrible week, really and A) this made me grin, yeah, I should feel bad for ya, but whatev, I didn’t
    B) I play poker with a smokin’ hot guy who looks like a younger Richard Gere, I tease him about the gerbil thing all the time, I CANNOT wait to tell him about your kitten incident, he will love this.
    .-= Wicked Shawn´s last blog ..Big or Small, We All Have Something To Say About This One =-.

    1. Did I miss the memo that we’re all commenting with a’s and b’s and 1’s and 2’s because a) I find it fascinating and b) I kinda want to go post comments in this style on everyone’s blog. Too bad I’m effing drowning. *sigh* I MISS you guys.

    1. Um, I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess you aren’t much of a cat person, eh? Fortunately, I have a wicked high threshold for embarrassment as exhibited by my clothing choices and inability to walk while chewing gum.

    1. Honestly, I was so embarrassed I didn’t even see which one it was. Actually, now I’m just hoping it was a cat. Fuck. You’re freaking me out, Jeane.

  6. I think you’ve just successfully invented a new product. “Furry Ass Crack” warmers. For those cold cold winter days (and nights). They wouldn’t be real kittens though, duh. I think it could catch on, eveyone knows people are kitten crazy. Just look at those kitten shaped mittens.

    Don’t let the kitty know you got this idea from it. I’m pretty sure it’s ego would inflate and there would be no living with it afterwards.

    .-= Spot´s last blog ..The one where Sean doesn’t have an eye tumor but I have crunchy knees… =-.

  7. xcross applesauce? tailor style is the best description for those of us old enough to have read fairy tales out of an actual book.

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