All

I can't have the cats any more. I worry all the goddamn time about them, and just like willful humans, sometimes you have to let them do whatever the fuck they want, even if it's wrong. I came home tonight and nine of them had staged a breakout by tearing open the screening in the kitchen door.

Fuck 'em.

If they wanna be outside so fucking bad, they can learn what "outside" is like. No food. No clean catboxes. No heat. No nice shelves to sit on. No nice manufactured goods to piss all over.

Fuck 'em.

Nancy can come and get all of them if she wants, but no, she'll ignore that the same as she's ignored every other responsibility that came out of our marriage.

All the cats that liked her better are the ones that hated me, anyway, so fuck all of them. I want my house back, and I don't want it back smelling like cat piss.

Fuck them all.