PETTING CRIMES ( How Jack Hates Pussy )formerly known as Hallelujah

Give me a P...

PPPPPPPPPP!!!

Give me a U...

UUUUUUUUU!!!

Give me an S...

SSSSSSSSSS!!!

Give me another S...

SSSSSSSSSS!!!

Give me a Y...

YYYYYYYYY!!!

What's that spell?

Pussy!

What's that spell?

Pussy!

What's that spell?

Pussy!

That's right...

PUSSY!!!

My dear fur fetish friends. Please remove your minds out of the gutter. Please put your proverbial tongues back into your salivating mouths before some Tabby Tom Cat gets to them. No, this is not a Marilyn Manson concert and I am not talking about a part of the female anatomy. What I'm talking about here, is the Spark of Feline Xcellency.

That's right. My heavy petting friends. We are gathered here today, to acknowledge a grave injustice being perpetrated in our cities, our towns and our kennels. We have a problem, a major problem regarding our precious surrogate children whom we fawn over, pamper, and spoil with specialty ice creams and hand woven sweaters.

We have a problem that needs to be addressed immediately, if we are to truly live in a world created equal for all. What I'm talking about is the inequality between the Sweeeet, Sweeeet, Pussy puss, Pussy Cat...and, the dog. I am afraid that somehow, that scoundrel, the dog, that lowest of beasts, has gotten the upperhand, demanding and receiving more of our attention, while the poor Cat has received the short end of the leash. In recent years, our dog worship has leapt completely out of control. We have dog towns, dog parks, dog hikes, dog hotels, dog beaches, dog walkers, dog sitters, dog groomers, dog dentists and doggy obedience school. Yes, we even give them gold plated collars and take them to the opera. But what do our poor feline friends get? Nothing. Nothing but dusty windowsills in stuffy houses and apartments. Or garbage strewn alleyways. Or freeway underpasses. Or, heaven forbid, trees!

This canine elitism must be spayed. This tyranny of hounds must be neutered. We must muzzle that shitty shitty chihauhau, once and for all.

We must come to realize that Cats are where it's at. They help us keep a true perspective of our own importance. By doing what they do best. Ignoring us! Yes, Cats believe they are God. And i'm here to tell you. They may be rightÉ

I say, leave behind the dogma, the doggerel, the dogfight, and join my catatonic cataclysm, catalytic catechism, my catcall, caterwauling in catalina with CAT STEVENS!!!

Give me Felix the Cat. The Cat in the Hat. The Pink Panther. The Cheshire Cat. Give me Morris, Sylvester and Hello Kitty. Give me Julie Newmar and Eartha Kitt. You can even give me Dr. Evil's hairless sphynx, Mr. Bigglesworth. Yes, I never forget a Pussy!

"I want chicken, I want liver, meow mix, meow mix, please deliver".

Yes, I am here to tell you...Soldiers like dogs. But, Artists like cats.

In heart, I am an artist. In heart, I am an American. In heart, I am an American artist. And I seek pedigree. I seek the tales of Lions and the nine lives of sacred Tigers and blue Leopards. And I raise my fists against Snoopy and his ilk and I beg you to join me in huffing a humongous hairball of dissent. I now drop to my knees and bow down to the Great Cat in the Sky, and I plead of you, my dear friends, to join me in my exaltation, this long ecstatic hisssss of pure pleasure, and the meow of my curiosity, and my renunciation of all things dog.

Jack Grapes himself is a dog person. A worshiper of mutts and mongrels. We must admonish him for his sins. We must repel his creeping Cat abuse. We must not allow him to interrupt this catastatic, categorical, Cathouse call to arms!!!

I say, Let us have the same veneration for Cats the Egyptians had. I say, Let us return the Cat to it's proper glory. Let us shave off our eyebrows in mourning. Let us put a stop to this dictatorship of dobermans. This terrorism of terriers. This plague of puppies, poodles and pugs. Instead, We shall build Cat parks. Cat museums. Cat temples. We shall inaugurate Cat Awareness Month. Yes, it is now time for Cat scratch fever to infect this land. It's time it rained only Cats, and the mice to feed them. It's time we slept in our Cat's pyjamas and walked in our Puss's boots. Let us finally and triumphantly let the Cat out of the bag. Out of the prison of our homes. Out of our litter boxes filled with that clumpable, flushable filth.

The fate of humanity lies in Her paws!