That's him. That's the one. He's the culprit. The one who conveniently barfs on the tan and gold part of the rug so that it seamlessly blends in. (And you discover it barefoot at 4a.m.) The one who thinks that his cat box is merely a "concept", there fore he can leave his refuse riiiiight outside the box on his kitty rug. The man that enjoys playfully licking you when secretly he's tenderizing the spot for the right moment to chomp down. The one who violates my bed in spite of my protestations. (Dorajar thinks I do it to keep the bed "cat hair" free, when the truth is I know he just wants to sit on my chest and suck out my soul through my nostrils.)
He's a turd. Nothing lovable here. Carry on...but be warned.
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