No, I don’t know why I did it and I probably never will.
It’s not like I’m sexually attracted to my cat, I swear. He and I have a strictly plutonic relationship, always have. Always will. Sure I love him, but not like that. Never like that. So why did I do it? I don’t know. Seems like a cop-out to say I was drunk but boy, was I! But even if I was into beastiality, I think I could do a little better than him. Knowing a few reasons why I didn’t do it doesn’t really help me narrow down why, though, and that’s something that I need to know. Maybe it’s time I brought in a professional because God knows I can’t figure this out on my own.
Even if I did fuck cats, you think I couldn’t do better than him? I love him to death, but let’s face it; I’m way out of his league. If I were a cat of equal attractiveness to my human form, I wouldn’t even give that mother fucker the time of day. A cat that looked like that would have to treat me pretty darn bad to keep me interested, let me tell ya. It’s not like I even drew him with a good looking weiner, it was all… soggy. It was thin and looked like it was always wet with a vein that throbbed even when it was soft. It was a weird-ass drawing, man.
My cat hasn’t found out about it, thank God. Luckily I wasn’t home when I did it or I don’t know if I’d be able to ever look him in his eyes again. I was actually waiting for a bus when inspiration struck. A kindly old man at the bus stop asked what I was drawing, I lied and told him it was a regular human penis of a regular human man, but he clearly didn’t believe me judging from the disgusted look on his face and when he spit on my shoes. How could he have possibly figured it out? I suppose I’ll never know. Just like I may never know what would possess me to humanize my cat’s genitalia for the benefit of no one and perhaps the fall of civilization entirely.
The worst part about the whole thing is that my cat is actually very shy. He won’t even lick himself in front of more than six people, which is considered very anti-social for a cat, probably. If he knew that I was drawing pictures of his penis out there all willy-nilly that one time, he would be devastated, and you could throw all hope of him ever trusting me again right out the window. He knows that I know how terrified he is of human penises after- you know what? Not important.
That penis drawing did help me realize something, though. When I got on the bus and saw my reflection in that window separating plastic thing, you know, the one towards the back but not all the way in the back? That weird blast-shield thing that separates some of the bus from some other parts of the bus for some reason? Well, anyway, I saw my reflection in it and I didn’t see Cedric anymore, I saw someone who was drunk on a bus holding a crumpled up napkin with his cat’s human penis on it. I’d finally hit rock bottom and I couldn’t be someone who had never drawn a picture of what his cat’s penis would look like if he were a human ever again, but I could at least stop drinking, because then I wouldn’t have to take the bus. I hate the bus and it was it does to my mind with the cat penis drawings and whatnot. Or I could start driving drunk again. I know I swore off of it, but this is a different world now.
Driving drunk sounds pretty tame after you’ve crossed the ‘imagining a human cat penis’ threshold.