Horror… sort of

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You must read this post from Tim Ford to understand why I might do this on my technical blog. But Tim’s a friend and the chance to branch out, at least a little, could not be avoided. I hope I don’t lose too many of my eight readers from this….

The sign read “Live Nude Cats,” so of course, I had to go and take a look. It wasn’t the best part of town and I certainly didn’t have any reason to be there, but the sign read “Live Nude Cats.” How could I resist? How could anyone?

I parked and locked the car, scanning the parking lot. Not good. There must be 50 different ways a person could get jumped in here, and did I mention this part of town is less than savory? “But,” I thought to myself, “I’ve started, so I’ll finish!”

I walked up to the entrance. The obligatory muscle at places like this was sitting on a stool outside the door, despite the cold. Why do these guys always look slightly overweight and on steroids. “No cover he says.” I’m shocked. No cover with “Live Nude Cats.” I step in to the dark room, out of the light, momentarily blind. The sound & smell hit first, thumping music like, well, one of those places, the smell of old beer and feces… this is not going to be good.

My eyes adjusted and then I saw it, animals, all types of animals, but cats everywhere. Don’t get me wrong, nothing unnatural was occuring, but there were animals all over the place and guys, all guys, drinking between them, just watching. “Live Nude Cats” indeed. Live Nude Animals. What the heck is this place?

I notice one guy put his beer on the floor for a moment, but as soon as he looks down he’s going to be very sad about the pony, because the silly thing kicked it over. He notices. H jumps to his feet screaming, “What the heck is the point? Just ask George “Let’s Have Padme Die Of A Broken Heart Instead Of Anakin Crushing Her To Death” Lucas. It’s all pointless and meaningliness.”

Maybe that was the message behind “Live Nude Cats.” That there wasn’t a message at all. That it was all as much drivel as the last three Star Wars movies. Let’s face it the script must have been written by simply using some magical tool, library, or bong to bash against a keyboard over & over again.

At that point, my nerve left me and I ran, as fast as I could out of… of… whatever the heck that place was, exploding out the door bursting into the sun, blinded as much as I was when I went in…

OK, fine, but what do you think?