Gettin’ High with Kitty

In which I smoke out the poster pet of the Internet.

It’s kind of a stoner rite of passage to feed a pet some form of narcotics. I find that my cat’s instinctual curiosity and literal inability to “just say no” makes him a prime candidate for chasing the green dragon. Plus I’d hate to be one of those losers who smokes pot alone. That’s why when I get high with my cat I plan activities that the two of us can find equally engaging. Like watching movies where people turn into cats, so we both get freaked out. If I’m sitting there baked out of my potato, considering the implications of turning into a cat (increased stealth, cuter agility), I like to think that ol’ furball can also wig off imagining how it’d be to morph into a human (i.e. no having to bury own shit, non-weird prick, can open a savings account…etc.)

The films Cat People and Sleepwalker pretty much make up the “werecat” genre of cinema, the former of which IMDB describes as an “erotic remake,” which is the best kind of remake. While I zoned out imagining an erotic remake of Downfall, my cat remained transfixed on a scene where some guy gets his arm ripped off. I didn’t want him to get any bright ideas, so it was on to the next film.

Sleepwalkers details that tired old yarn about a shape-shifting mother-son duo that feed on the souls of virgins. For reasons pot-related, I don’t really remember this film. Though I do know it feature my favorite kind of stabbing. You guessed it, corn-stabbing:

As my cat’s interests shifted towards urgently mewling at a shadow, it became clear he didn’t give two buried shits about these movies. My attention eventually wandered as well, and I later found myself on the Internet Googling pictures of Jocelyn Wildenstein, the infamous “real” cat woman of plastic surgery.

Me-ow: