There is a f*cking bird in my back yard driving me f*cking crazy....literally...IT WON'T STOP, EVEN IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, and it sounds like a cheap car alarm with a loose wire, I am planning to knock the bird out of the tree and feed it to my veracious cats - oh thats right, we don't have any, we have lazy, useless, fat, stupid, butt kissing, lumps of fur who don't move until my husband walks through the door and they know they are getting fed.  
I don't feed them.  
I hate them.  
I want them to find another sucker to cadge free food off.

The one regret I have in this marriage is that my husband is a CAT person and they are f*cking WEIRD. 
I am allergic to cats which means I can't touch them or anyone who has touched them, which means, my husband is getting NOTHING in the intimate department if he has been anywhere near those animated Ug boots.  But that doesn't stop him, he still comes in the house covered in those little bitches minge hairs (I'm taking dramatic licence) which means he doesn't get to come anywhere NEAR ME, without a shower and dose of disinfectant.  *shudder* yes folks, wire brush and dettol.
I don't hate all cats, just my husbands cats.  We even had a cat once that I quite liked.  He was a HARD ARSED Ginger Tom who seemed to be made out of nothing but muscle, claws and teeth.  He - the cat - once he took on my brothers gigantic bull terrier/hyena/elephant cross and bought the dog down to his knees whimpering.  His name was Boof, as in Boofhead.  And he used to swagger around the neighbourhood looking with disdain upon all other cats who would literally shit themselves and run at the sight of him.
 He caught mice by the dozens tossing them up in the air like a juggler for hours until he got bored and broke their necks with the skill of James Bond.  
What a cat.  
I even let that one in the house.  
(Actually I let that cat do whatever the hell he wanted he was terrifying)  Alas he came of second best in a head on collision with a Mazda and went to Cat heaven where he is probably shagging merrily after God gave him all his sex bits back.)
I had another cat that was mine which I called Lushka (which should have been spelt Luschka) but I didn't know that.  

Violet Keppell

The thing is she, the cat, was named a pet name Vita Sackville-West poet/aristocrat/writer/gardener gave to her lover Violet Keppel, daughter of Alice Keppel, famous/infamous, mistress of Edward 7th and Great Aunt of Camilla Parker Bowles present Duchess of Cornwall.  They were sort of pioneering hero/heroines of mine, whatever, (this gender language stuff really does do my head in, try writing a gay love stories, thats when all the pronouns are as useless as tits on a bull.  yes I did mean that in a metaphoric and linguistic way, I'm a f*cking writer)   I named my cat after a famous Lesbian, as I was in love with the famous lesbian at the time.  Well in love with their story "Portrait of a Marriage" which had me swooning all over the TV.  
I actually don't believe in lesbianism, I believe everything between consenting adults is NORMAL and everyone is a bit gay "a big bit" or "a little bit."  I certainly am, quite a big bit actually, and honestly if my husband was a girl I'd still be all over him/her like nettle rash.
ANYWAYYYYYYYYYY........segue back to the point, those are the only two cats I've liked in my life, apart from Smokey the cat from which my pornstar name is derived, but I was a child, and the most significant part of that relationship I remember is the end bit, when she/he got run over.  
Oh by the way I HATE dogs, all dogs, even those snappy little ones who are supposed to look cute in a f*cking handbag.  I hate them but I am never mean to them.  They have as much right to be here as anyone else but *shudder* they can be in someone elses family.
But with marriage comes compromise.  Yes, I have to put up with his shit, which is okay because I have so so so much more shit than he does to put up with...*snorty sniffer* 
Back to the bird - It is making my life hell and basically won't shut the hell up so I can either sit here and plan its demise like Wiley Coyote has done for the last millennia or I can come to peace with it warbling away in such a painfully annoying random fashion that is making me want to tear my own skin off.
It's the RANDOMness that makes me crazy.......arghhhhhhhhhhhh

Why is the world so F*CKING RANDOM.