Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth
In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.
Sex. And Kitty Cats.
What do people really want to read about on the internet?
Well, Sex, of course.
And Kitty Cats.
So (Carnival's reputation being what it is) forthwith: a twofer. (In the long, twisted history of the Anguish Linguage, have ever those two words been used in the same sentence before?) A Mardi Gras tribute to Mr. Rudycat, the bad-most, pukin'-est kitty that ever missed the litter box. Sung, of course, to the tune of the immortal Dr. Longhair's classic Go to the Mardi Gras.
Says the Rude: Aw, just pick me up, click the damn link, and dance, already.
Big Dumb Kitty
There's a big, dumb kitty,
and his name is Mister Rude.
There's a big, dumb kitty,
and his name is Mister Rude.
He's a big, dumb kitty,
and he's got an attitude.
He's so bad and stinky,
with his pink and faggy nose.
Evil son of Binky,
with his pink and faggy nose.
What we did to deserve him,
oh, the Goddess only knows.
Don't know why I love him,
but in fact I really do.
Don't know why I love him,
but in fact I really do.
Don't know why I love him,
that big old, dumb old Mister Rude.
(Whistle)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0wAMr3V5lN4
Photo: Paul B. Rucker
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Cute kitty.