Conversation I Legitimately Just Had With My Roommate:
"God, I love annoying the cat. Just lying in bed, poking him, tugging at him, squeaking at him, annoying the shit out of him. And he just keeps coming back for more. Because that’s how much he loves me. …God, the next guy I date really needs to be a push-over."
And this is why I’m a horrible, horrible person who will die alone with not one, but 16 cats. Who eat my face off in retribution for years of persistent, obnoxious abuse once I’ve fallen to the floor and stopped breathing.