Small Things and Women

First, let me say this:
I grew up in rural southwest Ohio and thus my faithful animals have always had land to run around on and I don't currently have a dog because I don't have anywhere for said dog to run. "But what about dog parks? There are plenty of those in cities!" because I'm fuckin' lazy and I don't care for people. That's why not the dog park.




Now onto the story!

In college I made a correlation between small creatures and women: the smaller the object, the more affection a woman feels toward said object. For example:

Cans of small soft drinks. Cute AND healthy.

A baby fawn! Adorbes!

A tiny poop factory- PRECIOUS!

Every girl's dream since they were 4: OMG IT'S SO FLUFFY!

Ladies, I hope that I've illustrated my point and will now continue.

Generally I've been able to exploit this philosophy, particularly when I had two kittens. Let me explain.

This is Dutch (left) and Boo (not left):

SUPER CUUUUUTE!

The story, I can't remember the truth anymore, is that my step-mom took these two kittens in so that they would eventually turn into rodent-destroying felines of death and keep pesky little mice from having orgies in our barn thus saving the parental belongings from ruin. However, being that these future death dealing purr machines were only 2 months old, I decided to take them in as my own little bundles of love and affection... oh how right/wrong I was. 


Initially the plan worked. I would find a girl, strike up a conversation mention that I have

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Girl: You're like... a total frat scum. I'm not sleeping with you!

Me: Let me explain how I just adopted two small kittens, saving them from an emotionally scarring, treacherous life of  mousey-genocide.

Girl: How old are they?

Me: About 3 months old. They still fit in the palm of my hand.

Girl: I must see them. Right. MEOW!!

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two small kittens, and whisk her away to my apartment where we could play with kittens and, because I was so defeating of her stereotyping and a gentle giant deep down, have sex. This didn't work EVERY time, but I was having more sex exploiting the Small Things and Women philosophy than trolling the bars lookin' for floozies. Unfortunately, like all baby animals, even kittens get larger.

Draw me like one of your French girls.

As natural progression would have it, the kitten phase wore off and they slowly grew into large adult size cats... but I live eventually moved into a city to start my "big boy" life and now live in an apartment complex... with a cat. This means I had to give Boo to a nice home and kept Dutch... which has constantly been as such:

But here's how Dutch makes up for all the times I've wanted to body slam him:

Moral of the story: Dutch is a little bastard... but he's MY little bastard.