There is a tree near my house, that has probably been there for years, just doing its tree thing, watching patiently as families come and go, empires rise and fall, and Isengard is flooded. I'm sure it's a beautiful tree, cheerfully trading carbon dioxide for oxygen, providing shade, and most likely supporting several birds and squirrels. It's a lovely tree, I'm sure … but I hate that motherfucker because I am super allergic to whatever pollen or voodoo or evil waves of itching sneezing bullshit it emits. I've seen doctors and witch doctors and oracles and psychics* about it, and all anyone's been able to do for me is suggest I take an antihistimine (Oh? Really? Thanks, medical professionals! I never would have thought of that on my own!) and … well, that's just about all I can do, so just pay the receptionist on your way out, Wil.
In the course of your life, you have probably come across someone with allergies. It's possible that this person has told you that having allergies is awesome**. That person is a liar.
You see, in addition to the itching all over my skin, the sneezing and coughing all the time, and the general annoyance that accompanies being constantly under assault from a fucking tree***, I have a severe case of what a specialist calls "allergic rhinitis." Translated into English: I snore like a beast, and there's nothing I can do about it.
It's warm and humid right now, which apparently makes the trees really horny, because I've just been dying the last couple of days. I'm snoring so badly, I've temporarily relocated myself to the pull out sofa in my office, so that Anne can get a good night's sleep, and I don't have to wake up every time she does because I can't stop snoring godammit.
The thing is, the cats have their litter box and their food and stuff in my office, and over the last couple of days, I've found out that my cat Watson likes to eat dry food right about 5am, and then take a giant toxic nuclear shit as soon as he's done.
Yeah, you're probably going "eeeewwww gross" right now, but at least you haven't been woken up twice in two days by the suffocating Cloud of Cat Shit Stench**** like I have, so maybe keep a little perspective, gang.
Anyway, the whole point of this sordid tale is this: when Watson woke me up this morning by punching me in the face from inside my nose, I thought this would be pretty funny: "Me: Dude, come on, cat. Your toxic shit is suffocating me over here! Cat: I CAN HAZ-MAT? Me: Yes. Yes you can."
I know, it's a long way to go for a silly joke that isn't even that funny four hours later in the cold light of day, but the important thing is that I just wrote about 500 words for the sole purpose of joking about cat poop.
*Not really. Psychics are bullshit con artists who prey on vulnerable people.
** I don't know why someone would say that, but I also don't know why someone would go see a Michael Bay movie on purpose, so maybe I'm not exactly making a whole lot of sense right now.
*** Get it? Fucking tree? Because the pollenating tree is, literally, a "fucking" tree, but it's also just a fucking tree because I hate it. Like I said, I'm not making a whole lot of sense right now.
**** That's a level 4 monster from Monster Manual II, though having encountered it I think it should have been in the Fiend Folio