Next time you google your own name, buddy, this is going to pop up: Matt Alcosiba must die. Hope it gives you a good scare.
The rest of you might be wondering, who is Matt and why would a nice pacifist like MC wish him ill? Well ... consider the evidence.
It started a couple weeks ago, when Roy pointed out the he hadn't seen Skidz, my cat, in awhile. Now Skidz is a hunter, and it's normal for him to disappear for a couple days. But a couple days turned into a week, and then two, and then three, and when he didn't turn up at the pound I knew he wasn't coming back.
So that's hard. And at the pound I started to think that maybe I should rescue another cat. One to keep Mouse, above, company. I talked to Haulani, who mentionned that Matt's cat had two kittens he wanted to adopt out. Two was do-able, but the cats turned out to be long hair, which wasn't. Then he tells me he has *two* other litters, and could I handle three kittens? Because he didn't want to split a litter up. Because I'd be a good Daddy. Because because because because and my answer was always no no no no don't make me hurt you no.
Frikkin' Catholics. They don't even do birth control for their cats.
Bitch shows up at Haulani's with all three. I take two. The third cries and claws and meows and I cave. And so now I've become the crazy cat lady. Damn.
Here they are:
Llarona, Judas, & Grasshopper.