Cat Under a Hot Tinned Roof

Ethan Switch - Friday, 21 November 2003 - 08:59:10 - print it raw

Opening the doors of his illegally erected shed, Fenton Perry came upon a cat that had lost out the entirety of its nine lives. There, in a lump of unmoving feline mass was the carcass of the cause for many of his wondering thoughts. "Watching sheep eat pigs is fun." said Perry as he swung the cat around, shaking off the bugs and ants that had crawled their way into the orifices.

The find did not come as much of a surprise to Fenton who recalled having seen a furry tail wave about before disappearing under the tight eave of the northern end. "Funny was seeing a tail hanging out like a fat teenager wearing hipsters" remarked Fenton as flies started feasting on his arm

From the misshapen skull, it would appear that the cat bashed its own head in while trying, in vain, to either signal a rescue or create a new exit from the shed "I assumed that the cat had a way out."

 

Finger your nose and keep a fresh and up-to-date eyeball on our latest reviews, articles and filthy somesuch. What is that?

Or simply subscribe via email:

Affairs In Order
For when you're kicking the bucket and you want to work out beforehand who will be haggling over your corpse.

This is a do-it-yourself Australian will kit. Includes Power of Attorney, Enduring Guardianship, Advanced Health Directive and other things.

The bickering of family and friends over your dead remains not included.

an affiliate ad

 

Articles and essays

Red Riding Trilogy
This is an attempt to understand the newish British television series Red Riding. Due to the regional accents, the muttering, the byzantine plot, and that British inability to provide subtitles, I am writing a detailed synopsis to get my head around this excellent television show. In short, it is nothing but spoilers, spoilers, spoilers...
Kitchen Antics - Chicken in Faux Ragoƻt
Ladder of flavour? A few rungs above bland. This can be constructed & delivered in less than 30 minutes, depending on your aptitude with a knife.
Lassitude abandons the Throwing Knives
Down on the chamber pot, the percolating smells brew up quite the nasal fest. From the wafting fumes, the air solidifies partial sweaty rock and musty punk, a taste hinting at delicious pockets of after-aftertaste, and the not so floral punch of an undone music interview leaves the tongue wanting something else.

Every detail makes the story worth following somewhere. Cooking up microfiction and life lessons as we review film, music, books, theatre and other aspects of culture.
It's all intrigue and conspiracy.

Copyright 2002-2010 The Wax Conspiracy

 

 

Nipple protection from the elements?
Armpit hair needs a lair?
Bellybutton catching too many flies?

Then grab this comfy chest covering and other kinds of T-shirts at The Wax Sweatshop.

id=ufo