Youtube to Cat in 0 seconds
A few months ago I was asked by some arty type about a study/survey they were doing to canvas…
“Whilst on YouTube, how many videos does it take for you to watchto a cat one?”
I think they were expecting a highly cultured answer from me that involved videos of:
- TED Talks,
- How-to’s about just, the best format for dinner parties or
- A deep monologue about the bite-sized analyses available on the subject of Middle Eastern conflict throughout the 21st century.
“That’s why I go on Youtube.”
What’s funnier than seeing a cat being cute/a nob?
They looked at me as if I’d broken into their house on Christmas morning, ripped her child’s Bratz doll out of their hand and shoved it up my arse; whilst simultaneously knocking over the Christmas tree, eating all of their mince pies, humping the dog, humming ‘Mistletoe and Wine’.
What’s funnier than seeing a cat being cute/a nob? Videos of dogs are alright, but they do come across as stupid. There’s only so far looking guilty and dragging your arse across the floor will get you. Cats might look thick, but it’s a cleverly, calculated front to disguise their bid for world domination.
Cats must not be allowed to know that they have become an internet phenomenon. Fame does odd things to people. We see it all the time in this age of obsessive, celebrity culture (Britney Spears, Lindsay Lohan, David Icke…).
After a while, the cats will start being shit and bring out dub-step remixes of Cat on a Piano, ft. Rihanna. The downward spiral starts. Tabloids across the world feature ‘papped’ photos of our feline friends, falling out of Z-List hotspots, with the latest Hollyoaks faked-tittied-wonder on their arm.
Before we know it, there’s stray, ex-internet sensation cats everywhere, clinging onto their fame, dragging Lexmark printers around with them.
Soon after, they all become seriously addicted to catnip. Standing, unsteadily on their two hind-legs , stumbling around like the un-dead, with the glazed look of ‘dramatic cat’ on their little, furry faces.
Before we know it, there’s stray, ex-internet sensation cats everywhere, clinging onto their fame, dragging Lexmark printers around with them, OMG tattooed across their paws and pretending to woof/box/talk in shop doorways, whilst jangling an empty cat food tin, begging for spare change.
There’s thousands of molly-cats in Social Clubs up and down the country doing the Kitty Cat Dance, dressed only in a sparkly cheap collar and arching their backs to crowds of leery old men. She fakes a puurr when they shove a tenner into her mouth and the customers then rub their knees a la Vic Reeves. But she has to do it, night after demeaning night, to fund Momma cat’s unhealthy, catnip addiction and feed her litter of hungry, home alone kittens (who act surprised every time her dirty, slaggy paws tickle their little belly’s).
Illegal bear pits of cats play patty cake and kitty’s line the streets, sat in boxes. The public simply pass by and ignore them, because frankly we’ve seen it a million times and it’s just not cute anymore.
The forlorn kitty’s share facilities with the growing roster of forgotten and failed male, reality pop-show winners.
Special sanctuary’s for these pitiful creatures are set up across world, breeding a whole new generation of high-street chuggers, wearing fake cat ears and tails. Bunch of arseholes.
To reduce the on-going running costs of the chain of Viral Cat Priory’s the forlorn kitty’s share facilities with the growing roster of forgotten and failed, male, reality pop-show winners including Gareth Gates, Steve Brookstein, Alex Parks and that other dick with the hat.
Each year, Will Young, Lemar, Brian from Family Guy and Bouncer from Neighbours front a Telethon, aiming to raise money for new rehabilitation programmes; helping the cat’s return to society, as fully-functioning members of the community. The three-week, 24/7 televised event sees Lenny Henry, Bob Geldof and one of them blokes who was Doctor Who that time, visit down and out cats in their own habitat, making friends with their kittens, whilst wafting fleas off their face.
Only a few cats ever fully recover from internet stardom.
Yet, heartbreakingly for all the huge stadium concerts, god-awful re-releases of legendary songs, murdered line-by-line by the latest plastic popstars, only a few cats ever fully recover from internet stardom. Many end up with their pants down on the Magic Bus, preaching the word of the Lord, to petrified students; as they hand out leaflets scrawled with crazy meme’s describing their fall from grace
So the moral of this story is, don’t show your cat a laptop. They’ll probably just sleep on it anyway.
Don’t get me started on otters.