September 5, 2012

Ghost Cats!

Many famous writers - Dylan Thomas, C.S. Lewis, all the writers of Lost (assumed) - have written their best work while on some serious shit. My latest inspiration has come to me during this 5 day (and counting) asshole of a head cold and the assistance of no-name sinus medication. I have been a victim of Ghost Cats. Sure, laugh. But if it's happened to you, then you know I am talking about some Grade A Japanese horror-inspired heebie-jeebies that will make you sleep with the light on.

First, I must tell you about Percy. He is a wonderful gentleman of a cat. He even wears a tuxedo. I've house-sat for him twice and find him to be quite the charming acquaintance. But when night falls... I wake up to this:

He's just staring at me in the dark with this expression like he knows something, like he was about to DO something until my internal alarm system went off and now he's just playing coy until I go back to sleep so he can finish the job! 

I tell myself I'm being silly. He's just a cat. So I pretend to go back to sleep. It's so quiet. And then I open my eyes, just a crack, and see this:

HOW DID HE GET SO CLOSE TO ME? And those eyes!!! They stare right into my soul - I'm telling you, it's not right! I can feel his mind control. He is trying to hypnotize me. And now, it's time to confront him. He needs to know that I know what's going on.

"Dude, why are you watching me sleep? It's creepy. This is why you guys were burnt at the stake alright? Dial it back."

And I shove my head under the pillows, but I can still hear him purring. Then... a fuzzy paw reaches out and touches my face.

WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME? But I know. It's my soul. He's trying to sit on my head and suck my essence right outta my mouth while I'm sleeping. And cats never sleep. They wait.

Now that you understand my rational fear of cats and their sleepwalking ways, I will explain the terrifying side effects to dextromethorphan: Ghost Cats.

Imagine if you will - you can finally breathe through your nose and a sense of euphoric peace falls upon you. All is well in the world. You close your eyes and then, it happens.

Right by your feet the blankets sink down from pressure as though something jumped up onto your bed. You feel it by your side and actually hear purring when there are no cats in the house or even the Goddamn neighbourhood. Suddenly, the Ghost Cat is right by your head, but damn him to hell if you're going to look, because it always makes it worse when you look and it's not there when you know it's not there because it's a flipping Ghost Cat. 

So who knows. I think I'm on to something here. Ghost Cats could be at a theatre near you, soon.

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