Cat Eyes

I swear to god I’ll kill them all.

It was kind of cute at first, but this is getting ridiculous, unreasonable. I could bear it, grit my teeth and bear it but now? Well I just don’t know, such rampant stupidity is almost cause for indictment of sorts, surely. Oh god, she’s talking again. This inane hyperbolic deluge of pure meaningless dribble that passed for insightful discussion in this house. Something about the budget, gosh, now refugees and overseas affairs. Carol, the eminent public commentator here at last, returned from Canberra no doubt.

She’s turning to Frank and says “It is despicable. I mean our Government can’t do that”

Of course they could you nitwit. That’s what the news said. Honestly I’d kill for an intelligent bit of discourse in this place. Just once, I’d love to look up from my plate and not have to discuss in depth politics of My Kitchen Rules. I’m sure all the contestants are as smart as you make them Carol, but I can hardly rate them as Machivallian masters of subterfuge and political manoeuvring. A burnt soufflé is hardly on the same level as The Discourses.

“Well, Abbott has every right to intervene as a neighbour”

Hear that? That is white middle class yearning for the days where you all spoke to your neighbours, peering over each other’s fences as you all attempt to keep up and carry on. Of course, your neighbours were all white - that's the fact they always neglect to say.

Oh, here comes the little one down the stairs, ankle biters, noise incarnate. As much preservation instinct as a bird on the fence. I’d say she’s the bottom of the barrel but frankly I’m worried about the cellar floor at this point. She’ll fall in a second and-

Yep, there she goes, so fucking predictable.

“Oh Samantha! Come here, it’s okay, don’t cry, did that floor give you a nasty bump”

Yes, careful Samantha. Don’t learn from your mistake, it’s the floors fault. Honestly if this place got any worse, I’d be out the front door and having dinner at the Faulkner’s up the street full time. I tried to talk about Marx and the formation of the capitalist class system keeping them down and the culture industry theory of Adorno and Horkhemier but they told me to eat my dinner. Samantha falls again. I laugh once, loudly. Frank turns to me, hearing my cry of mirth.

“I think the cat wants to go out Carol”

#comedy #humour #fictions #cat #writing #complaint #whinge