I was absolutely delighted when my brother sent me $1000 for Christmas. It was a " knees up Mother Brown moment ". Apparently, it would be landing in my Paypal account imminently. My long awaited back up hard drive was ordered; the few cases of chardy were delivered and I indulged myself with a few " goodies " that I would otherwise not have had.
Alas, it all came crashing down yesterday when I learned that paypal has mysteriously lost the money and my brother and self are somehow bereft of a grand and I am now in a situation where I have had to roll out the dreaded BLACK BUDGET to claw back my expenditure and had to explain to my cat why she and I are on rations for the next month or three in order to wait while Paypal undergoes a forensic audit of its accounts - much like the one conducted in America in the recent elections.
In other words, jackshit will happen and someone, somewhere has my Chrissie pressie.
For fellow cat slaves out there, you will know where I am coming from. We exist only to serve our Masters and they sleep and groom themselves while we slavishly do everything in our power to ensure that their lives of indulgent luxury are lived in maximum comfort with minimum effort from them. In short, the fat cats sleep and pamper themselves so that we can, like the slaves in the era of Cleopatra, feed them metaphoric grapes, fan them and caress them with our love and labour; all the while they scratch us, bite us and tell us it is because they love us.
When I tried to explain to my cat that she would have to forego her normal 6 meals a day and try to cut down to 3 and have a top up of kibbles, she gave me such a look. I could almost feel her words searing into my brain. She said that I should simply drink less Chardy, eat less ( " you are too fat you know " ) and work harder. When I asked her why it was that I had to cut down and she could carry on as usual, she just frowned and said " Your problem, not mine. Bring me some milk. Or cream, if you have bothered to buy it, you lazy, tight fisted old bludger )
It seems that, as far as my fat cat is concerned, it is MY DUTY to serve her and MY DUTY to ensure that she maintains her lifestyle and to hell with mine. When I tried to explain to her that she actually relied on me for her well being, she merely stretched her toes and said " I am due for my nails to be clipped. Please take care of that, will you? "
I have tried to tell her that times are tough and that Covid aka the Batflu aka the " Let's destroy the economies of the world so that China can takeover Virus " has made it more difficult for people like me to earn a living. Millions of us are struggling to pay the mortgage, the rent, the utility bills and we are in desperate times.
That stimulus cheque from my brother was something I needed but it has been stolen by person or persons unknown.
But the Fat Cats around the world refuse to eat kibbles. They refuse to stop going to the manicurist to have their nails done. They simply bite us and snarl at us when we say to them " If I am going to do it tough, surely you can pitch in and do it tough as well? "
It seems that I am in for a few tough months and I had to raid my funeral account to make up the shortfall because of the failed Chrissie pressie.
At this rate, I'll be on the back on my Uncle's ute and taken to landfill.
No doubt, I will be designated a pollutant like asbestos because of my political leanings and sent to some kind of area declared as a Toxic Zone.
The one thing that I can't figure out is how the hell my Fat Cat will survive when all of the slaves are in fenced off areas and there is no one left to feed them?
Did I tell you my cat's name?
No, it's not Nancy, but it damned well should be.
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