So thoughout these little equine diatribes, we’ve established that the Hilltop Elite are racists, promote car dick artistry, inspire hate in recruits who have hardly set foot on campus, encourage rape, are responsible for turning Craig James into a world class asshole and last, but certainly not least, love the cocainia. And if you take a close look at those things, you’ll notice the common thread running throughout is that all of these tales have applied stricly to human hate.
In our society, cats are arguably the most alienating of domesticated house pets. No one thinks cats are, “OK.” You’re either a cat person who somehow accepts having an open box of shit in your house , or you’re a person who wants to put all the world’s cats into a meat grinder and flip the switch. And after living in the Greek for 2 years having to dodge them at every turn, I can assure you that I fall rather firmly into the second group. And even if that didn’t convince me, after spending a weekend at lt4heisman’s house listening to the hissing of the feral beasts that surround his front porch, I’ll beat all nine lives of the next one I see. Soudned like I was in the snake filled train car on Indiana Jones. Or a gay pride parade.
And now, thanks to SMU, I’ll probably be dodging them for my forseeable future in Dallas.
As much as I’ve come to appreciate George W. Bush since he’s been out of office and we’ve been left to bottom feed with his predecessor, I’ve never been shy about my feelings regarding the choice of venue for his Presidential Library. As fellow SMU haters, I think most of you will sympathize with me on that. And now, due specifically to its location on the SMU campus, it seems I have the unlikeliest of allies of all on my side – cat folk.
This story in the Dallas Morning News outlines the plight of SMUs feral cat colony which will soon be occupied by tons upon tons of concrete, steel, and Harry Potter books. The cats, who have already been forced from their original habitat due to previous construction and have seen their numbers decrease significantly, will pretty much be out of on campus options once the library is completely, according to SMU feral cat program member Althea Webb. On one hand, it’s probably better for the cats to find a new habitat, seeing as how they’d have a better chance of avoiding used needles or eating hastily tossed off 8-balls in West Baltimore. On the other, SMU has a feral cat society? That the university funds? Normal. I'm guessing this should come up during the next tuition hike discussions.
So the big question is, where will the cats go? As more and more campus construction has been springing up on the east side of SMUs campus where the colony resides, the cats have been pushed more and more east. So, once they no longer have a home, where do you think they’re going to go? EAST. And where do I live? A
couple of miles EAST of SMU. S0 assuming the cats are able to traverse the gap between their bourgeois digs to the M Street slums, where do you think they're going to set up camp?
IN MY NEIGHBORHOOD.
After spending a month attempting to rid my backyard and attic of opossums, it now looks I’ve got this to deal with in the immediate future. So I’ve been working on a positive spin for this situation. One, if the cats manage to flatten themselves out and get into the walls of my house as the opossums did, at least I won’t have a shortage of more cats to send into the walls to get the other ones out. Another is, I’ve been meaning to get a BB gun to pick off squirrels as entertainment while I’m sitting in my backyard, so at least now I’ll have more moving targets with which to hone my skills.
But there is one more solution and, as the best solutions typically involve game day situations, that’s where my mind eventually ventured. Let’s say worse comes to worse and the feral cats eventually overrun my neighborhood and spawn even more feral cats. This is bound to happen because feral cats practice safe sex even less than the Haitians. Or at least that’s what Paul Shirley tells me.
So now the cats are in the walls, the trees, the streets, everywhere. They’re eating birds, attacking babies and the thoroughfares runneth over with a river of urine, feces and whatever that crap is they cough up on a regular basis. They have to be driven out, right? We can't just let them take over, right? So what better way to do so then to draw out the hate that lives within us all, which they surely possess in droves as they are the reason they were driven out of their original habitat. Of course I’m talking aobut SMU Hate.
So flash forward to Friday, September 24th. SMU/TCU live on ESPN. The Ponies are riding high and love their chances to upset their biggest rival in front of the entire nation. The game kicks off without anyone noticing the presence of one lone, ominous cat peering through the gates in the south end zone, a mischevious scowl on its venomous face. But then, as SMU is driving, looking to take a quick lead, a faint rumble overtakes the crowd and, as it draws nearer, turns into a loud scratching and screeching, like a pack of rabid Tasmanian devils taking down a herd of antelopes, like death himself arriving in an exploding World War II fighther plane. And then, pandemonium.
Cats EVERYWHERE. Black cats, brown cats, white cats. Cats of all shapes, colors and sizes, all having adhered to the Horned Frog hatred of all things pony. Attacking SMU players, attacking SMU fans. Clearing the home side of the stadium and eventually causing a forfeit before storming the Bush library and taking back their original habitat, turning the facility into the most prestigious and expensive feral cat sanctuary in the world. SMU students grabbing their vials and fleeing in their helicopters, BMWs and other various forms of transportation their daddys bought for them. The police swooping in trying to quell the violence, but instead stumbling upon the biggest drug score this side of Pablo Escobar. And all of it on national television, ruining SMU and returning them to their rightful place as the biggest laughing stock in the southwest.
As yours truly, Sir Wesley Willis, the Pied Piper of Pussy(cats), stands on the 50 yard line, taking it all in, sipping an ice cold Jameson and toasting another decade of TCU Football dominance.
And that’s today’s lesson in beginning-a-story- with- one- intention,- completely- losing- focus- in- the- middle-, and- eventually- turning- it- into -a -surrealistic- free -for- all- which eventually,- although- admittedly- roundaboutedly,- accomplished- the -underlying- message- that- has -run- throughout- all- of- these- posts – that SMU is a wart on the wrinkly ass of the Metroplex and must be destroyed.
But, for those of you who were mostly alienated by it, here’s some pictures of SMU cheerleaders being drunk and slutty. Now you can never say we don't reward our readers.