me talking to people outside of the true crime community/people in real life:ok, idc, stfu, who cares, stop, nah
me talking to people from the true crime community:OMG I LOVE YOU SO MUCH YOU ARE SO GODLIKE SLAY ME YOU CAN PULL THE TRIGGER ON ME YOU ARE SO WONDERFUL I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU LET'S GO NBK??? OK BUT WHO IS ANDRE AND WHO IS CAL AND WHO IS REB AND WHO IS VODKA ???? HAHA YOU ARE A CHILD OF MANSON AND THE MOON
Sometimes I think brcalicocat is living in my house but then I remember that CC would never nip at my ankles the way that Maple does. Maybe. Although, CC might perch on my chest in the middle of the night and scare the shit out of me when I wake up by gazing deep into my eyes as if they were hoping they could start eating my face early.
Anyway, please look at my cat, Maple. My little trash bag cat, we just took the cone of shame off of her and she’s a lot more enjoyable without it. I think she’s a pretty needy cat–she always sleeps in one of our rooms, either on the window sill where it’s cool or curled up next to us or on us. She’s really playful though, gets scared if you’re in the hallway at the same time as her, is having trouble not scratching the couch we got off of craigslist, you know–cat things.
I’ve actually never had a pet before. I mean, I had fish growing up, but I never had an actual pet besides like, 4 kids that were younger than me. I’d always heard that cats were easy pets and she really is easy–she eats all her food, drinks a decent amount of water, shares the bathroom with me (sometimes there’s kitty litter on the floor and I just have to deal and sweep it up in the morning). During the day I wonder what she’s doing and this week, since I wasn’t home at all during the waking hours, I really missed her!
I love my trash bag cat. Sometimes I wonder if the story the lady told me was fake, but Maple really hated that trash bag when it lined her litter box. I dunno, seems pretty fitting.