My fight for survival in this terrible world

Friday, December 28, 2012

Post- Christmas Meltdown

Christmas has come and gone. It's time to usher in the New Year.

Well, screw that.

I'm fricken pissed. I've been living with Katie for almost 5 full months now and my living situation hasn't changed. I spend EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. with the most miserable human being the earth has ever known.

Don't even try to placate me.

Don't say "she isn't that bad" or "just give her another chance."

You people have no idea about the kind of life I live or the struggle I deal with day after day to simply keep myself from walking into a blizzard without winter gear.

That's why I'm only making one New Year's resolution.

Either get out or die trying.
--

Sorry if that seems a little dramatic. I wrote that hours ago after I weighed myself and found that I put on 20 oz during the holiday season. Time to hop back on that scratching post and get back down to my target weight.

If only hating Katie was a workout...

Anyway, I hope you all have a great new year and if you feel so inclined, make your resolution to help me escape. I'll leave you with a picture of the present I got Katie for Christmas. Until next week, I'm Ivan Denisovich. God bless.
For those who can't quite make out the picture, it is an Edward Gorey print from his alphabet book which states "K is for Kate who was struck with an axe." It was a nice gesture of me, I know.

Friday, December 21, 2012

Tis the Season


Well, I was counting on the world to end last night so I didn’t write my weekly “blog” (aka pathetic journal of captivity) until I woke up this morning and realized my dreams of a doomsday ushered in by all four horsemen of the apocalypse was just that; a dream.
I'm so depressed about this that I might not even get up today 

Sorry if that seems a littler over dramatic but I do live with someone who regularly watches drivel on the CW and judges Grey’s Anatomy episodes based on whether she cries or not. “Over dramatic” is kind of part of my daily routine.

I should be grateful though, some people go through their entire life without finding their calling; drifting aimlessly about looking for a purpose. I, at least have been lucky enough to find mine: making Katie miserable.

This last week she spent hours downloading music and organizing her iTunes into perfect little playlists. She even recommended songs to a few people. It’s pretty obvious she things she has good taste in music. It would b hilarious if it wasn’t so pathetic. After all, let’s not forget that “Straight Up” by Paula Abdul is in her top 10 most played list…

We drove back to Pierre this week for Christmas and an eye appointment Katie had. I haven’t quite figured this whole “Christmas” thing out yet. I’m given to understand that it is a day celebrating the birth of the Christian version of the Messiah. But I also understand that this “Jesus” character was actually born in July or August but instead chooses to celebrate his birthday in the dead of winter. On top of that, his birthday is some how connected with a fat man in a red suit who breaks and enters into people’s houses through a chimney to leave presents. Apparently, it is impossible for this man to enter buildings unless they are covered in cheesy decorations and lights. Like I said, I don’t really get this Christmas thing.
Can you see me amidst all these tack decorations? 

Anyway, while in Pierre, Katie went to visit two of her friends who are teachers and got talked into doing a reading project with the students. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: willingly allowing someone like Katie around children will be looked on by historians years from now as the beginning of the end of American’s global dominance. But I digress. We read “The Grinch” out loud to the class. It’s kind of ironic because I’ve always thought of Katie as a mix between the Grinch and a dementor from Harry Potter. As far as a dementor goes, she sucks the life and soul out of everyone she meets, leaving them crippled half-shells of their former selves. And just like the Grinch, she’s not very pleasant to look at, hasn’t mastered basic social skills, and constantly wears ill-fitting clothing that makes you cringe. To quote “The Grinch,” the three words that describe her are “stink, stank, stunk.”
Am I the only one who sees the resemblance? 

Those are really the only things I’ve got going this week. Plus, I’m in the process of googling more about Christmas. I’m really trying to understand this thing. Until next week, I’m Ivan Denisovich. God bless.

Friday, December 14, 2012

Bad Driving


Praise the lord! Katie actually got her heart rate up for a short time this week!

Hang on, though.

Before you think it was some sort of physical activity, let me set the record straight.

She was watching the Celtics/Mavericks game on TV. The game went into double overtime and Katie—who apparently doesn’t have any real world concerns—got all worked up about it. Literally, her heart rate was at a dangerous level.

I thought Santa was going to bring me an early Christmas present in the form of Katie in a coffin.

Other than that, the highlight of my week was our trip to Spearfish. For one thing, it’s the second straight time I’ve been in the car with her when she hasn’t played “Straight Up” by Paula Abdul! It’s a miracle.

Secondly, she decided to go a day or two after we got hit with a bunch of snow and the wind was still blowing 20 miles an hour.
At least 10 miles of an iced over, unbending road. Seems safe

I’ve never really trusted Katie’s driving skills all that much—because I know what her intellectual level is (hint: it’s not high)—so her driving on slick surfaces in the wind with her check engine light on and a car that smells like burning oil if it runs for longer than 5 minutes was just a real treat. We white-knuckled it more than once and although I would be fine getting into a fiery car crash so I can escape this prison, if you are planning on being on a South Dakota road in the next few months, you might want to rethink your plans. Or else call ahead to find out where Katie is.

If you decide to drive anyway, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Until next week, I’m Ivan Denisovich. God bless.

Friday, November 30, 2012

What I'm Thankful For


Friends—or should I say “Accomplices who have let me live in captivity against my will without trying to rescue me”—it’s been a while since we’ve spoken and some good things have actually happened to me.

I mean, minus escaping Katie. For someone so stupid, she somehow manages to thwart every attempt. Must be dumb luck.

First off, deer hunting season started, which is great because I love looking at this all day.

On the plus side though, Katie might be accidentally shot so… I’ve at least got that going for me.

Also, Katie was climbing a tree the other day checking owl boxes and managed to scrape up her hand. Let’s face it; she had this one coming. Unless you are under the age of 12 or trying to escape from a crazed beast of the forest, you have no excuse to being climbing a tree. To make my feelings known, I spit in the open wound as she was sleeping.
 I think my urine has magical properties because the next day her had looked way worse

We also go our first legitimate snow here, which basically means Katie will begin hibernation. Not like she was all that active to begin with but when temperatures dip below freezing, Katie curls up with a “book” (crappy tv), a cup of “cider” (either Mountain Dew which is doing its best to give her negative bone density or Bailey’s because she’s a 70 year old man), and a “blanket” (in this case “blanket” actually does mean “blanket”). I’m hoping either her body atrophies to the point of death or she wanders outside and dies of hypothermia. I’m not picky. Either would work for me.


We also went to Minneapolis for Thanksgiving which basically meant another 11 hour drive just to eat ridiculous amounts of food. Thankfully, this trip we didn’t have to listen to Paula Abdul “Straight Up” at all. Either Katie finally got sick of that song or she finally realized she is not a black woman living in the late 80’s.
Here I am with Diego, Katie's mentally challenged polar bear. More about him next week 

We drove up with Katie’s parents named Ken and Barb. Yes, like Ken and Barb(ie). Don’t call them that though. Seriously. I learned that the hard way and am still picking paint chips out of my ass. They’re very nice in the “we’ve-been-married-for-over-20-years-and-still-love-each-other-way.” Frankly, it’s disgusting.

While in Minnesota, I reconnected with Katie’s aunt, uncle, and cousin whom I had met earlier. I also met another aunt and cousin of hers. None of that is very interesting but I did meet Bruce. Bruce is a wonderful plastic dinosaur who understood my plight like no one else.
 Best friends for life 

He too was sold into slavery by Katie (who this time bought him for her cousin, Danielle). I don’t envy his future. We had fun bonding over this and Katie finally won some brownie points with her creation of the most amoral, sacrilegious ginger bread village I have ever seen. I can’t even do it justice with words so just look at this masterpiece her and her cousins created.
 Bruce destroying a snowman, dead hooker hanging from roof, and giraffe eating a pot leaf. Merry Christmas
 My poop, dead lion, stabbed man, person snorting coke. 'Tis the season
 Close up of the dead man as well as Katie's surprisingly good drawing of a menorah

And for those of you wondering, I was pooping in front of a house that had a menorah in front of it. And before all you ACLU-types get up in arms, it wasn’t a hate crime; it was a simple neighborhood dispute…about our Christmas tree and their menorah.

Anyway, I’m currently back in Buffalo and in surprisingly good spirits. Thanksgiving taught me to be thankful for life and Black Friday taught me to go after what I want. Sometimes, in going after what we want, people get in our way. When they get in our way, it is acceptable to remove them in any manner we see fit.

Let’s just say, Katie is in my way… but she won’t be for long.

Until next week, I’m Ivan Denisovich. God bless.

Friday, November 9, 2012

The World's Longest Two Weeks


It’s been two weeks since I last spoke to you. In that time, I’ve spent over 22 hours in a car with Katie.

TWENTY. TWO. HOURS.

If I wasn’t clinically depressed before, I most definitely am now.

We started last week in Buffalo where Katie apparently felt the need to go on another nature walk. She spends most of her days just sitting around but every once in a while gets it in her head that she’s going to go be active. It’s like she thinks she’s in a Patagonia commercial (let’s be real though, she doesn’t have the looks to pull that off). Anyway, can someone explain to me how someone with Katie’s sense of direction and complete lack of a fight or flight response has not managed to die in the wilderness? I mean, the minute we get out of eyesight of the car there’s a 50/50 chance that she won’t be able to find her way back. I’m just waiting for the day that her getting lost and a gigantic blizzard happen at the same time. With her lack of fat and/or muscle, she’d freeze in 20 minutes and then I’d be freeeeeeee.
I should have just jumped into the fire and ended it all 

In the middle of last week, however, Katie decided she needed to drive to Minneapolis. Am I the only one who wonders how she manages to support this nomadic lifestyle with her zero dollar a year salary? She’s probably a drug dealer. Or a prostitute. Just kidding. No one would pay for that.

For those of you who don’t know, Minneapolis is 11 hours from Buffalo and even though Katie decided to split that up into two days, spending that much time in a car with her is painful. Like someone-shoving-red-hot-razor-blades-into-your-temple painful.

You think I’m exaggerating? She has a playlist that she listens to every time she drives further than a half an hour and for anyone under the delusion that she has good taste in music… she doesn’t. Seriously. If I have to listen to Paula Abdul’s “Straight Up” one more time there is going to be a blood bath.

It’s not even like we went anywhere cool in Minnesota. We went to the U of M campus to visit Lexi and I finally discovered one thing I hate more than Katie: college students. Just kidding. I don’t hate anyone more than Katie but seeing drunk, slutty girls and flat-brim hat wearing frat boys makes me wonder why America’s voting age is 18. I wouldn’t trust a single person I saw at that campus to cast a ballot. I did get to meet my long lost (and butt ugly) brother while there.


While there, we went to 2 different concerts. And when I say “different” I mean, basically as far on each end of the spectrum you could be. The first night we saw Ben Gibbard who played an acoustic guitar and sang about being depressed for an hour and half. The next night we saw Sleigh Bells. I don’t really know how to describe their sound other than by saying it’s like someone swinging a chainsaw by your right ear while simultaneously screaming in your left one.
This is Ben Gibbard. Katie took this picture. Why is she incapable of doing anything right?
Sleigh Bells. My only comment... WTF

I just do not understand Katie and her music. Really the only common denominator I saw between these two was that most of the audience was probably on some drug. Weed for Ben Gibbard’s audience and, judging from the behavior which made chimps looks well-behaved, bath-salts or ecstasy or some back-woods meth for the Sleigh Bells audience.

She spent the next night with an aunt and uncle in Minneapolis who, although they took her out for dinner and told her she could stay with them as long as she wanted, were clearly counting down hours until she was gone. Unfortunately for them, they have to see her again at Thanksgiving. I told them they should move, get an unlisted number, and cut all ties from their old life. That’s the only way to escape Katie. I may not have that chance but I have to do all I can to keep this from happening to anyone else. (Note to self: look into setting up a support group or non-profit for people hurt by knowing Katie)

We swung through Pierre on our way back so we could go to dinner to celebrate Paula’s birthday. While Tova was supposed to come, she said she was “sick.” Clearly she is starting to wise up and is trying to extract herself from Katie’s poisonous personality. She loses out on Mother of the Year, however, because she allowed Emry and Mariah to go alone. What kind of parent knowingly sends their children to see Katie?! I, however, was happy about it. It allowed me to reconnect with the only person on the planet who I actually like, Mariah. I don’t want to spoil the surprise but we came up with some really awesome new ways to kill Katie. Also, she nearly made Katie cry with one perfectly executed look of derision.
 Mariah was most likely smirking after causing Katie to cry AGAIN

I wish I could say I was as happy about seeing Emry but she insists on pretending to like Katie and, I’m sorry, but I refuse to be friends with someone like that. Not to mention, she made me prance all over the table like I was a show cat. I mean, I know I’m good looking but it just made me feel like a piece of meat at an auction. It’s going to take some pretty extensive psychotherapy to get over that humiliation.
 Look at how humiliating this is for me!

We were also in Pierre so Katie could vote in the election. It’s funny because in the days leading up to the election she took to facebook and twitter in bathed in self-importance and told people to go out and vote because of their “shared” future. What a joke. Anyone who knows Katie at all knows that she is a miserable, selfish, egotistical piece of steaming feces who could care less about anyone but herself. When Obama (the nazi, socialist, communist) was re-elected, Katie was happy about it. Not a surprise. Since she’s living off her parents now, it’s only a matter of time before she is sucking on the teat of government.

As for me? I could care less about the election. After all, I am a cat. Anyway, until next week, I’m Ivan Denisovich. God bless.

Friday, October 26, 2012

KB: Destroyer of Childhood Innocence


Katie and I did a whole bunch of nothing this week. Literally nothing. Pretty sure her butt is staring to graft itself to the nearest surface as we speak. I’m not even going to bother detailing my week because it would put you to sleep. I’ve basically spent every waking hour planning more and more outlandish ways to kill Katie. It’s kind of fun and makes time pass slightly faster.

The only thing I did of note this whole week was go to an 11-year-old’s birthday party. Yeah, I thought it was creepy too. Whatever.

Emry, the girl we met previously, was finally celebrating her birthday even though it was almost a full month ago. If you ask me, she was just milking it for all the attention she could get. Probably learned that from Katie.

Anyway, at the party, I was introduced to a foul little creature named Wrinkles that Emry and her friends seemed to like although he manhandled me in an unacceptable manner.


When I told the girls I had enough and was going to kill Wrinkles, they jumped on the bandwagon and helped me plot his murder. WARNING: The following is a graphic image that may not be suitable for all ages. Viewer discretion is advised.

And for your information, that picture was taken by a 5th grader. Are we sure we really want Katie around the youth of America? Seems like a bad idea to me.

Hopefully I have something more exciting to report next week (fingers crossed it’s Katie’s death). Until then, I’m Ivan Denisovich. God bless.