Friday, June 08, 2007

The death of Kitty

Coming home the other night, I received a sad news. Kitty was found murdered with assailant still unknown. Kitty, who until her death remained unnamed, was found by my 6- and 4-year old half-brothers in a nearby house about two weeks ago abandoned and whimpering. The curious youngsters that they were, they brought it to our shabby room where it freely gallivanted. Despite its shrill voice especially when it impatiently asks for food, everybody didn't seem to mind. And then the news. Some sick fuck of a neighbor whacked the poor kitten to death and threw it in the rats-infested canal. My brothers were not to be stopped from wailing. These cruel people should be repeatedly whipped and thrown to the dungeon of lions where the beasts can have a grand time shredding them to pieces.
Posted by at
Labels: ,

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family, Choose a f—king big television. Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. Choose fixed-interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose a three piece suit on hire purchased in a range of f—king fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the f—k you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing f—king junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, f—ked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. Choose a future. Choose life . . . But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life. I chose somethin’ else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you’ve got heroin?

Renton, Trainspotting