Back when my first son was a baby, I had a real cat in addition to my fake cat, Mr. Sprinkles, and his name was Pete. Pete was probably clinically retarded, but I loved him anyway, and we had adventures like, ‘LET’S RUN INTO WALLS HEADFIRST’ and ‘LEGS, LET’S USE THEM!’

Oddly, now that I see that typed out, it was the same sort of adventures I had with Ben, but I digress. Badly.

One weekend, my brother, Uncle Aunt Becky, and his wife, Sister Uncle Aunt Becky were at my parents house, were Pete, Ben and Your Aunt Becky lived. While Your Aunt Becky went to work, slinging crappy pizzas and beers as a waitress, Uncle Aunt Becky and Sister Uncle Aunt Becky kidnapped Pete to take him for “just one week” to kill a mouse.

Why they thought a retarded cat could kill a mouse is beyond me. I’m pretty sure any mouse that would die on his watch would have to have committed suicide.

But then, of course, they fell in love with Pete. Stupid old Pete, my companion. But, Sister Aunt Becky has more maternal sweetness in one of her cells than Your Aunt Becky does in her entire body, so when it came time to bring Pete back home, Pete already had amassed a collection of soft kitty blankies, toys and treats. In a week.

Suddenly, I felt sort of…guilty taking him back, where he’d be forced to sleep on my BED without treats, toys or the soft caress of cashmere cat blankies.

So Pete became Uncle Aunt Becky’s cat.

Many years later, I adopted a similar orange cat from the shelter because I am a creature of habit and also because I have no imagination. When I got him, I brought him home and loudly proclaimed that his name was….(wait for it)


And Pete II was possibly more simple-minded that Pete I.

Firstly, he used his head as a battering ram. Doors, windows, heads, walls, people, no matter what was in his way, he just bashed it with his head until it gave in or until he forgot what he was doing and decided to do something else.

Then, the moment he got happy, which was often, he’d start to salivate. Which was kind of funny, because you think, “hey, Aunt Becky, I drool when I see bacon!” but you know, the cat would drool when he saw ME. And since I LIVED WITH HIM, I was pretty much always cleaning up piles of cat drool.

Well, then I popped out two back to back crotch parasites and Pete II’s four measly neurons couldn’t handle the stress of having to deal with the peeing and pooing of two additional small humans.

So he did what any mentally challenged cat would do: he started peeing on stuff. Anything.

I called up my sister-in-law and started pleading with her. Shockingly, she listened to my pathetic bribes and ended up coming to take Pete home with her because she is a better human being than I am.

Which meant that she had not one, but two of my fat, orange, stupid cats named Pete.

Pete and RE-Pete.

I really shouldn’t be allowed to do anything. Ever.


Further proof that I should probably be chained to a wall somewhere.

I made you a present. See, now The Internet is trying to get a role in this, uh (I think I have this right now) blogging reality show about, uh, bloggers? Well, this is why I SHOULDN’T be allowed on a reality show:

I made that! It’s new! It’s why I should NEVER be allowed near a video, uh, maker. Or YouTube, where I made a channel, so I can make NEW videos. (hide, Pranksters).


Mushroom Printing! It’s live!


P.S. Now I feel like I should probably make more bad videos. This cannot possibly end well for anyone.

48 thoughts on “Further Proof That I Do NOT Win At Life

  1. Pete and Re-Pete. I love it. Once in awhile my cat Melody drools too. There’s something so pathetic about a cat that drools but it’s oddly endearing at the same time. The video is awesome. That song should be killed though.

  2. that video was pure awesome. even though I hate that song with the fire of my soul.

    I also have an orange cat that is retarded. maybe all orange cats are retarded? he’s scared of everything and I’m pretty sure has short term memory loss. I swear to god. and yesterday? oh yesterday. I awoke to find him scratching in his litter box like crazy and that he had drug my effing slipper in there to cover up his shit. oh yes. and when I screamed, REALLY? What are you? RETARDED? (see: I’ll be a great mom someday), he got so scared that he hid under the bathroom sink the rest of the day. retarded cat.

  3. I have a name for a cat that I don’t even have. Shoebox. When it doesn’t work out for me can I have your sister in law’s number?

    1. Pete was WAY too dumb to be an outdoor cat. If I had thought for a single second he wouldn’t have immediately tried to make BFF with a car, I would have sent him out there.

  4. I too have a blue eyed & mentally challenged cat. They are the best.

    And my brother has a cat that drools when she gets happy. Of course, the drooling didn’t start until after she electrocuted herself. Lost way too many brain cells.

  5. HAHA… I had a fluffy orange cat growing up… Gloria… *shuddering*
    I hated that cat. I was grounded multiple times because I refused to feed her. I swear she was a spawn of satan because she would sit outside my window at like 4am and yowl this death call and just stare at me… and she wouldn’t die. She was at least 25 – my mom tried to take her to get put down and the vet wouldn’t do it. She finally croaked a few weeks later and I swear I still hear her yowl … No more orange cats.

  6. I have a mentally challenged cat too. When he wants to be fed he tries to trip me. When I go to feed him he tries to trip me. Does he think KILLING me will get him fed? He obviously does not think long term. But he is long term for sure. He is 18. EIGHTEEN!! I have become allergic to cats since I got him, and he wont DIE!

  7. OH MY GOD! I had a black cat named Aker, after some Eqyptian deity, but really it sounds like “hocker” which is NOT fancy, at all. He went so nuts after I had my daughter, he ended up living with my BFF from college. He’s still crazy. But he’s an only child now, as he always wanted to be. (And she gets notes from the maintenance man in her apartment about the “crazy cat” needing to be “locked up” or she won’t get her dishwasher repaired.)

  8. Whatever, you totally still win at life.
    Also, WHAT on EARTH was that stuff in the blue tube?? Wait…never mind I don’t know if I want to know. Last time I asked what something was I learned WAY more than I wanted to about the Diva Cup.

  9. If anyone asks who is Aunt Becky, your video has the answer. The only thing you left out is your faithful Indian companion,The Daver,and his awesome feet.

  10. I think all orange kitties are retarded. I have one, he’s five and his name is Bubbles. I don’t know if I condemned him to stupidity for naming him after a character from “Trailer Park Boys” or what, but he runs head first into doors, hides from everyone (except me), tries to trip me when I feed him and his favourite thing in the world is the BBQ cover.

    And he’s only five. Sounds like I have 20 more years of this.

  11. Your writing and story telling kills me – you are so hilarious. You, however, are not allowed to watch my dogs. Believe me, this is more of a favor for you than me.

  12. My cats are 16 and 8, and on my last fucking nerve. Someone is now pooping out of the box, not peeing, just poop. It’s got. to. go. For reals. Since cats nearly never do their business when anyone is around, we can’t figure out who’s doing what. I’m assuming it’s the old one, but how bad would I feel if I got rid of the old one, and it was the younger one! So they both need to go. No more cats.

    My kid is leaving for college, and that means that I have to do litter duty now. I’m more then bitter. Can’t she have a cat in her dorm?

  13. Duder, I don’t know what’s funnier, the frosting tube that looks suspiciously like an insemination device or the vasectomy brochure at the end. Either way – perfect blend of the ridiculous with the sublime. Now I have to go take an icepick to my brain to get that song out of my head. Pete and Re-Pete – bwahahahahaha!

  14. My cat starting peeing on everything, everything. And that includes the inside of my shoes. Then she started shredding things like furniture and carpets, so we let the crazy cat lady take her in. The crazy cat lady lives a street away from us and she has pulled up all the carpet in her house, leaving the bare concrete so her cats can pee away to their bitchy cat hearts’ content.

    Our cat is very happy there with her 6 brothers and sisters and when we visit her, it’s just like old times. She ignores us while allowing us to pet her for only a very few seconds. When her tail starts to twitch, we know it’s time to snatch back the hand before she sinks her teeth down upon it.

    Thank God for the crazy cat lady.

  15. I love that video. You do not suck at everything. You produce beautiful children and you give a fine “finger.” And when you want to, you write some pretty profound, moving prose.

    I’m a sucker for orange cats, too. I’ve had two named Olivier (as in Lawrence) and Dylan (as in Bob). I currently have an orange and white one named Mason. He came named that. I thought it went nicely with my Chihuahua’s name, “Dixie.” Not that you asked…

  16. So funny, I just peed myself.
    I used to have a cat that would poop right outside the litter box…at least 2 or 3 times a day. I put up with it for 5 years and just couldn’t take it anymore.

  17. *disclaimer–i’m black, which, i’m pretty sure means i can make fun of other black people. maybe.*

    because i watch too much mtv (even though i’m 30) i can tell you the following: there was this show called ‘two-a-days’ about a high school football team in texas. there was a kid who’s father’s name was pete. the kid’s name was also pete. they did not call him ‘pete jr.’ or something equally unoriginal. they called him ‘re-pete’. the husband and i both looked at each other. he shook his head, sighed. “black people.”

  18. Extremely handsome kitty, but let me just say that retarded cats are totally overrated.

    I have a genius smart ass cat who drives my kids to school, makes a fucking awesome Coq au Vin and waxes my vagina all while reading the New York Times.

    She can even D.J. your next special occasion. The only issue…binge drinker = lots of vomit. And swearing.

  19. We had a cat when I was younger named Abby. There really was something wrong with that cat.

    If I ever shut her out of my room, the first opportunity she got to get in, she would pee on my pillow.

    It’s easy enough to explain though. My sister found her down by the creek in a place affectionately called “devil’s playground”. It even appeared she had been given a tattoo on her belly.

  20. I’m allergic to cats. I’m pretty thankful about that. Especially now.

    I think your video should win the award for the smoothest ending ever. That was awesome.

    Re: Pete and Re-Pete…my mother believed that all children should have a companion, so she had 2 13 months apart and my sister and I who are 15 months apart and there are 6 years between the sets. Anyway, my grandfather liked to refer to us (the younger set) as Pete and Re-Pete. Which means that we heard endless loops of “Pete and Re-Pete were walking down the street. Pete fell in a hole and who was left?” Woe to those who actually answered…

  21. oh, oh, you just make me laugh so hard. I can’t even tell anymore if you’re funny or not, or I’m just becoming an idiot.. but I just laugh too hard.

    hmm…maybe I’ll write up a post, “funny or idiot..why let them decide.”

  22. Did you ever see the Nickelodeon show “Pete and Pete”? It was utterly hilarious, about two brothers, both named Pete. The younger one had a tattoo of a dancing lady, and mom had a metal plate in her head. They had odd adventures like digging their way under the house to escape because they were grounded–this odd combination of totally safe for kids, but seeing-the-world-at-a-45-degree-angle kind of humor. Your cats, Pete and re-Pete, reminded me of that.

    Totally going to check out the new website now!

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