I fought the squirts and the squirts won

Well, I haven't wrote so much about my problem with the squirts lately, becuz sometimes they're better, sometimes they're worse. Overall, I think they're better, a little. I only had one time in the last month where the catbox looked like someone had started to make a fudge milkshake without the lid on the blender. (Phew! The Food Lady was exasperated and called me the Jackson Pollack of poop, whatever that means.)

Evidentally, getting rid of the squirts requires torturing me. It might even require an exorcism. I had four different kinds of torture. The first two involved ramming pills down my skinny little throat. The third was powdered poison or something that they put all over my food, and you bet I'll never touch that: I didn't just fall off the turnip truck, you know. The fourth was something the Food Lady called "raw food" which is supposed to help my digestive tract and make my stinky farts go away. It's very expensive, but I didn't even have to get close enuf to it to take a whiff before I knew I wouldn't touch it even if I was starving to death like I am when I've gone more than six hours without food.

But since I didn't git rid of the squirts, it means I'll have to go back to visit the old man in the blue coat that has that cold metal table with dogs barking in the background. The minute I learn how to use a telephone to do something other than erasing all the voicemail messages, I'm gonna call PETA.

I fought the squirts and the squirts won

http://www.skeezixthecat.com/scratchingpost/2006/02/i-fought-squirts-and-squirts-won.html