In previous posts on a sister blog, and in my book, Diary of an Angry Father, we’ve chatted about many things that could be considered misogynistic. First of all, I am not anti-woman, anti-black, anti-Mexican, anti-Christian, antipasta, or anti-anything for that matter. I could be considered an equal opportunity hater — ostensibly, I despise everyone and everything equally. So get off your high-horse and listen closely. I haven’t judged you — yet.
I used to be a ladies’ man. As a matter of fact, country superstar Jake McGrew wrote a song about me titled Stud Muffin. It’s true. As a matter of fact, I’m half black — from the waist down. Being a stud was definitely not my choosing — I blame that on Mom and Dad. Their genetic concoction created a being who was irresistible to the opposite sex. Shoot, even the buff salesguys at Hollister still glance my way when they think I’m not paying attention. Fortunately, I’m rather humble. Being a ladies’ man is not all sugar and spice, my friends. It’s a lot of responsibility. Juggling hearts is not for the meek. In my situation, it has led to countless broken hearts and four wives. Although my looks are hanging in there, fortunately, for you women, I have become milder in my older age, and thanks to my lovely fourth wife, I have retired from the meet market. I suppose you’ll have to find someone else to satisfy your needs.
A thousand or so relationships easily creates one helluva a relevant and statistically-significant database in which I have made considerable inferences about women and relationships. One of those inferences may be the single most important of my career — that of women who keep cats. Please reserve your judgment of those finicky felines for now. Never you mind that they’re too independent to provide unconditional love like a dog. And forget for a moment that they’ll run off for days or even weeks at a time, completely forgetting your feelings and breaking your heart. One of my neighbors walks her cat on a leash (snicker). And please completely disregard the fact that I am allergic to those evil, breath-stealing, catnip-snorting, fish-breath balls of hate fur. The fact I’ve uncovered is women who keep cats tend to be asexual. They have zero interest in any sort of hetero- or homosexual relations whatsoever.
What is it about that combination of felinity and lack of femininity? Honestly — it’s not a lack of femininity at all. Cat keepers can be very feminine, attractive, warm, and sensitive people. Many of them work in the non-profit sector, with their sole goal in providing some sort of assistance for those in need. But there is definitely some sort of subconscious connection between the decision to get a cat, and the aversion of clitoral stimulation. As a matter of fact, cats have a clitoris too. But I digress. I have found this is more of a metaphysical connection. The cat supplants a man. And since the cat has no needs other than food and a place to shit, it’s not as needy as a man. Perhaps it’s that neediness that’s the turnoff. These cat women, like their cats, have an agenda. They’ve got things to do, and sex just gums everything up physically and emotionally. If your woman brought a cat into your relationship, she’s just told you you’re too clingy.
But the game goes on. Cat women will still prowl for men — not for love and physical intimacy, but for safety and financial security. They play a good game, making you think you’re important, until you’re bagged and tagged. I’ll be damned if I’m going to put my life on the line for some bitch who’s essentially using me. Wife #3 proved that hypothesis true. Cats are sneaky, and thus cat women are too. As the honorable George W. Bush once said, “Fool me once, fool you once…” You get the drift.
As an aside, I also noticed an interesting correlation among women who have cats, and who run. Cat keeping women who run regularly are exponentially more asexual than those who don’t. Not only does she deflect affection and attention by the distraction of the cat, she’s running from it too.
Fellas, if you’re asexual, harboring a hidden STD, or have an unusually tiny ween, a running cat woman is definitely what you want to chase. Otherwise, add those strikes to your checklist.