So the Psycho Cat sauntered up me after she finished sipping her milk and wanted to know what was up with the WGA strike. (Although we are not WGA members, it is due to the WGA that I get measly but very appreciated foreign residual checks for MY HORRIBLE YEAR).
Psycho Cat: So how can I become a scat? I can write as good as any monkey. And I'm here in the good ole US of A. Then movie moguls don't have to go to England to get mongrel scats.
Me: What the hell did Granny put in your milk?
Psycho Cat: You know what I'm talking about, you asshole. Scats!
Me: Oh....you mean scabs. Trust me, you don't want to be a scab.
Psycho Cat: Why not?
Me: Because you can never join the WGA and get health benefits and all the other
nice perks if you do. Besides, it's not nice.
Psycho Cat: What do I care about health benefits? You took me to a cheap vet when I had worms. And who said I was nice? I'm the psycho cat. All I'm asking for is a chance. I can write better crap than CAVEMEN.
Me: So can I.
Psycho Cat: But you're not a cat. Hey, How about a remake of MICE AND MEN?
Change the men to cats, get Angelina and Clooney...I smell bling!
Me: I smell kitty litter.
