Purring doesn't happen for these guys,
All they do is hiss and whine.
Their fur is black,
Their eyes are red,
When they get depressed,
They claw their wrists.
But they can't kill themselves,
Cause they're afraid of the vet.
Meeoww meeoww meeoww
They shroud their litter box,
With black lace bows.
They don't eat mice,
Instead they hide in the corner.
Reeeeeoooooouuuuurrrrrr
You can't pet them,
Cause they want to be dead.
Get me a dose of Prozac for these Gothic Cats.
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Comments: 24
Magi
Hmmm, you hate cats that much. My Maximus thinks he's a dog. You would love him. :)
Why not put your muse to work and write a limerick about pets - anything from poodles to pachyderms. Visit my website: www.limerickcontests.com for details - you may WIN CASH and I'm awarding you a free entry - and all Gather members, too. Instead of entering your limerick through the website, send me an email and put Gather Member in the subject line: brightwater03@comcast.net. Deadline is june 30.
I had a Black Gothic cat and her name was Sister Soulja, sometimes "Little Girl." She had mysterious ways and had a chronic itch. She lived forever then one day died. On that day I found my Black Gothic Chihuahua, Loquita. Loquita has mysterious ways and a chronic itch. Gothic pets never die, they just reappear.
Thanks for a great poem!
Colonelk Possum
Richard, that's a great idea. I'll check it out, thanks.
I was going to use him as my user icon but then people started making it a big deal that pretty girls were posting pictures of themselves on the site, so I thought I would annoy them a little longer first.
This is too funny! The best part about it is that my roommate has a cat just like that. His name is Miko, and he walks around VERY SLOWLY with a scowl on his face all day. Then, when anyone male comes home, he starts regaling them with tales of his betrodden kitty existence while sitting up on his lap looking depressed. It's classic.