CAT LADY

I wouldn’t go in there, if I were you. She’s got 100 cats. One hundred. Every neighborhood has a cat lady. She takes the fucking cake though. Oh, and she eats them. She boils them and eats them. And for every cat she eats, she gets two more. That smell. Jeez. Combine the fact that she never cleans the litter boxes with the boiling and you’ve got a smell that you would not want to smell twice in your lifetime. You know, boiled cat smells like the worst boiled beef from the worst diner in Jersey.

I just wouldn’t go in there, if I were you.

She was married for about 25 years. Then the guy up and died. He’s still in there though. Had him stuffed and placed in his favorite chair. I don’t think the taxidermy was done by anyone who was officially licensed because hubby still stinks like unwashed cock.

Oh, and she wears a diaper. I don’t know how bad that is compared to the boiled cat and the dead guy in terms of smell, but it’s sincerely the cherry on top. A potpourri of smells that, combined, are kind of sickly, rosy-sweet in their own way, I guess. Not to me, I’ll tell you that.

Still, I wouldn’t go in there.

If I were you.



-SLL