New York Shitty Day Starter: Why?
Boy I have been pissed off a lot of late. At first I chalked it up to the lousy weather and allergies. Then the weather got better and my allergies abated— only to discover I was still pissed off. I have ceased to think much of it anymore; I have noticed damned near everyone else I have encountered in the Garden Spot lately is pissed off too. Who I am to buck the community Zeitgeist?
Now throw in some serious sleep deprivation due to:
- one of the most obnoxious neighbors you can imagine throwing a party for 20-30 of her equally obnoxious friends*
- crazy people screaming on my block at all hours of the night
- and one of our local watering holes deciding R & B music is best enjoyed at 2:00 – 2:30 a.m. LOUDLY.
and you get one very pissed off Miss Heather indeed!
Now add this to the mix…
and I am ready to blow! What is so rage-inducing about this kitten, you ask? Well, I’ll tell you.
As I was running errands yesterday afternoon I bumped into my buddy Lisacat who, as some of you might or might not know, does a great deal of animal rescue work. She was about to pop into a wine store on Nassau Avenue when I spotted her and her ubiquitous cardboard cat carrier and I asked her what was in the box. That’s when she showed me the above little fellow she rescued in East Williamsburg and something else:
Someone, for reasons only known to him, saw fit to shave him: ear hair, whiskers and all.
We eventually drifted onto the subject of what to name this handsome chap. Lisa suggested that since he has been shorn we name him after a famous bald person. I immediately thought of Ving Rhames, as just like in the movie Pulp Fiction this little guy has had an encounter with someone he would just as well forget (WARNING: previous link is very NSFW) and quite frankly, whoever that person is, I too would very much like to go medieval on his ass.
I will never for the life of me understand why people do shit like this. Really.
*Luckily I have since learned this was a moving party. No more listening to this woman talk on her cell phone for hours on end— day or night— while sitting in her window and smoking skunkweed and no more excuses for the Mister to walk around the apartment with no clothes on. Hallelujah!