A Twitter Feud for the Felines

I started following Damon Lindelof because he wrote LOST, I kept following him for his hatred of Fancy Feast. Yes, like the cat food. Lindelof serves a heaving dose of self-loathing and, sure, between LOST and Prometheus, he has a handful of haters. I’m sure he has plenty of fans as well but you’d never know from his Twitter account. The best evidence of his snark and loathing? His semi, one sided feud with Fancy Feast. It’s one part satire, one part self-loathing, and a heavy dose of marketing hatred aimed towards the cat food company. And it’s hilarious. Here are a few of my favorites.

Lindelof v. Fancy FeastEven though I am very married, I can’t help but feel like a crazy cat lady when my shopping cart consist of red wine and twelve cans of, ironically, Fancy Feast. The lonely-looking factor gets upped with each article of clothing made out of sweatshirt material.

Sure, the self-loathing gets to me at some moments (you’re a successful writer! A little bit of cheer is warranted!)  I always look forward to his cat food hatred. Who knew cat food could produce so much hate?


Open Letter From My Cats

Our three cats were especially annoying this morning. Instead of feeding them the bad food, I thought I would give them a motive. So here it is.

Dear Humans,

You’re lovely, really, just the swellest, but there are a few ground rules that we need to review:

First, we run this show. Just get that down. I know, I know, we are really good and letting you pretend to be in charge but you’re not. This is our house (thanks for getting it bee tee dubs!) and we let you live in it without scratching your faces to death because we choose too. We can easily choose not too. Cats are carnivorous and you are meat. So lets just understand who is in charge here.

Second, stop taking pictures of us. We get it, we are cute. WE KNOW. But if I see one more lens in my face you will lose your hand. And maybe your spleen. Oh yes, we know where it is. Why do you think we paw at you? To comfort you? A little kitty massage? No, it’s to find weak spots in your feeble human body. And we know where they are.

Third, we sit wherever we want. On your favorite pair of black pants? Ours. On your lap when your trying to get up? Ours. On the computer your typing on? The table? Your dinner plate? Our butt belongs there. It is ours.

In summary, we own you. You were put on this earth by the generous cat goddess to feed us, house us, cuddle us– WHEN APPROPRIATE AND WANTED– and tell us how pretty we are. By kitty law, we must be kind if you perform these duties and respect that we let you live only if you provide for us. So stay in line, humans, We don’t want to kill you. But that doesn’t mean we aren’t capable of it. Watch it hoe.

Love and affection,

Paul Newman, Martian, and Chaos (the kitties)