This morning I got in my car to go to school, and I noticed a piece of paper on my windshield. So I got out and read it, and it said:
Check your engine area. You have a kitten inside. Call xxx-xxxx if you find it.
So I popped the hood, and goddamned if a real live fucking kitten didn’t jump out! It ran away into the back yard before I could grab it. I hope my dogs don’t eat it if it’s still back there…
Anyway, I called the number, and a lady told me that her daughter spotted the kitten apparently disappear under my car’s hood (don’t even ask me how it managed that), and was terrified that I would start the engine and vaporize it or something. To be completely honest, I did start the engine for about 10 seconds before I saw the note and turned it off, so I (and the cat!) was very lucky that the kitten wasn’t sitting near the actual engine block when I started the car. Funny story: when I turned the engine off, I heard a “meow!” coming from under the hood and had a total WTF moment.
So I wonder how the kitten got in there. Or maybe it was born inside, confirming my theory that all car engines are actually cat-powered, and gas pumps actually dispense water with special cat steroids that make the cats super fast.
In other news, we watched “Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle” in my cinema class yesterday. Now, I’ve seen a lot of really crappy movies lately (300, Transformers), but this was just one of the worst fucking movies I’ve ever seen. And the worst part is that the numb-fuck retards I go to school with thought it was the absolute height of comedic genius. It was like a flashback to my sitcom class a few semesters ago when I had to suffer through an episode of “The Single Worst Sitcom Ever Produced, Ever,” better known in America as “Two and a Half Men,” while these stupid pieces of shit all around me cackled like loons. I hate my generation. Seriously.