Cats are bigots

A few days ago, I saw a cat outside in the neighbor's yard. I was happy because, I mean... it's a cat. And I hate cats. So there's a chance to say hello and maybe make a friend before I traumatize the crap out of the thing.


So, I grab my mom's shoes and head outside. They're slip-ons with elevated heels, so as you can tell, my balance wasn't the greatest. Not used to wearing girl shoes, you know. I slip, regain balance, and the cat darts under the porch. LIGHTNING FAST. That cat was super fast. Almost didn't see it.


Anyways, I went back inside, dismayed, then saw it resurfaced. Oh boy! Lucky day. I go back outside and it arches its back in the common cat I-hate-your-freakin-guts-so-get-lost-before-I-murder-you pose. Backing up slowly, I flee.


But why did this cat hate me? Is it my natural cat-hating vibes going off, and the clever creature knew I was an enemy? NO. It's because I was wearing my mom's shoes. Because I was cross-dressing. Because that cat is anti-cross-dressing, transvestite-hating BIGOT. Never mind that I'm wearing girl shoes, let alone my mother's. That cat hates people who are different. And I think that's wrong. And that cat should pay for it. But it's faster than me and it has claws so I'm not going to do anything about it.


Her shoes were easier to put on then mine! It's not my fault. It's not like I enjoy wearing lady clothes. Sheesh.


Moral of the story: if you're going to be a hater, learn how to run. That way people can't punish you for your unrighteousness.