![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Jan. 22nd, 2004
This is, seriously, the BEST QUOTE EVER:
Jan. 22nd, 2004 02:13 amConnecting with these remote systems required at least a 300-baud modem which would produce a lovely series of shrill shrieking noises that resembled a Casio keyboard being given a battery acid enema by that retarded homosexual floating robot from "The Black Hole."
--from www.somethingawful.com.
I mean, hell...how often does one find the words "Casio," "Battery acid," "enema," "homosexual floating robot" and "The Black Hole" together in one sentence? Before today, NEVER.
Which is why this is truly the Best Quote Ever(tm).
--from www.somethingawful.com.
I mean, hell...how often does one find the words "Casio," "Battery acid," "enema," "homosexual floating robot" and "The Black Hole" together in one sentence? Before today, NEVER.
Which is why this is truly the Best Quote Ever(tm).
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif){kind=small}
"a whirling tornado of fur and claws"
Jan. 22nd, 2004 09:48 pmThe most hysterical thing on earth just happened. So hysterical, in fact, that laughing at it precipitated a ten-minute, agonizing coughing fit--but that's okay, because, gods, was it worth it.
I was just climbing out of the bathtub after having washed the crud of the day off, and there was about an inch or two of water still in the tub as it drained. Christy was sitting near the tub, looking curiously in...not, perhaps, comprehending why I was emerging dripping with water. She has this habit of leaping up into the tub and meowing piteously until I let her drink from the tap, which is really weird, but she's a weird cat to begin with. Anyway, she looks up at the tub--and I shouted "NO! CHRISTY, NO!"--but she leaped up on the ledge anyway--and then in--and--
Suddenly, there was no more cat--just a whirling tornado of fur and claws! Water started spraying everywhere and she tried three times to climb up out of the tub but her feet were wet so she slid back in! Finally, she rocketed out and tore off down the hall, with me following, laughing moronically, and carrying a towel to dry her off. Man, what a fucking battle that was: first I had to scare her out from under the bed where she was hiding, then I had to pin her growling, seething little ass down while I rubbed her tummy and tail with the towel....
But--here's the strange thing--she wasn't really wet at all! Damp, sure: her feet were damp, and her tail, and her tummy was a little wet, too...but, honestly, for the amount of thrashing, spinning, and flailing that happened in the tub, I expected her to be drenched. But she was just a little damp. I know she shook some of the water off immediately upon her escape from the quagmire of doom, but I still don't understand how my cat could possible have emerged from that tub as compartively un-sodden as she did. Maybe she was spinning so fast in the tub that the water couldn't touch her, or was centrifuged right off of her fur the second it touched.
Either way, I feel bad for the shock the poor little creature experienced, and I've given her an extra helping of food and a warm pillow to sleep on now, but...it was still fucking funny. VERY, VERY FUNNY.
I was just climbing out of the bathtub after having washed the crud of the day off, and there was about an inch or two of water still in the tub as it drained. Christy was sitting near the tub, looking curiously in...not, perhaps, comprehending why I was emerging dripping with water. She has this habit of leaping up into the tub and meowing piteously until I let her drink from the tap, which is really weird, but she's a weird cat to begin with. Anyway, she looks up at the tub--and I shouted "NO! CHRISTY, NO!"--but she leaped up on the ledge anyway--and then in--and--
Suddenly, there was no more cat--just a whirling tornado of fur and claws! Water started spraying everywhere and she tried three times to climb up out of the tub but her feet were wet so she slid back in! Finally, she rocketed out and tore off down the hall, with me following, laughing moronically, and carrying a towel to dry her off. Man, what a fucking battle that was: first I had to scare her out from under the bed where she was hiding, then I had to pin her growling, seething little ass down while I rubbed her tummy and tail with the towel....
But--here's the strange thing--she wasn't really wet at all! Damp, sure: her feet were damp, and her tail, and her tummy was a little wet, too...but, honestly, for the amount of thrashing, spinning, and flailing that happened in the tub, I expected her to be drenched. But she was just a little damp. I know she shook some of the water off immediately upon her escape from the quagmire of doom, but I still don't understand how my cat could possible have emerged from that tub as compartively un-sodden as she did. Maybe she was spinning so fast in the tub that the water couldn't touch her, or was centrifuged right off of her fur the second it touched.
Either way, I feel bad for the shock the poor little creature experienced, and I've given her an extra helping of food and a warm pillow to sleep on now, but...it was still fucking funny. VERY, VERY FUNNY.
