Coat of Many Murders (Alternate Title: Cat Lovers Gonna Hate)

PETA members and animal rights advocates, you’re going to want to skip this post today. In lieu of reading the following inflammatory drivel, why not instead go play some Peruvian pan flute (or a few rounds of hacky sack) at a Sarah McLachlan concert. See ya tomorrow! 

bye girl



OK, now that those responsible do-gooder nags are gone, let’s get to it. Today I bring you the tale of a Texan little old lady who was arrested earlier this month, for kidnapping and killing the neighborhood cats. What fueled her catblood lust? Fashion, of course. The retired fashion designer(!) was making fur coats out of the cat’s pelts.

Neighbors grew suspicious when a few of them identified their former cat’s hides in the patchwork of her fur creations, someone set up a camera and b*tch got caught. Police found approximately 30 different cat carcasses on each coat, and seized over 20 coats, meaning hundreds of cats were killed to and fed to other cats. She confessed and explained that while she began by raising her own cats for the coats, she grew too attached to continue killing them (awwww!) So, the Waco woman did what any meek and mild psychopathic cat-killer would do, she went local organic by snatching up the neighborhood cats. Another charming plot twist is that she used the ground up meat of previously skinned cats to lure her victims. Say what you will about her diabolical little operation, but five bucks says the stoner butcher at Whole Foods is still giving her props for recycling.

This truly is feel good story of the year if you’re a cat-hater like me, did I mention that she is gorgeous!?

Here’s a photo of the accused looking fly as hail in the missing furry friends, drink it in.


I Can't Believe It's Not Cat Fur! (Oh wait, it is.)

I Can’t Believe It’s Not Cat Fur! (Oh wait, it is.)


  • The Hair whipped to perfection in a coif that’s best described as “Hitler’s Cotton Candy.”
  • The winking eyes, complete with a black belt degree application of at least two different shades of blue eye shadow (the preferred shade choice of sociopaths and murderous clowns alike.)
  • It looks like she skinned a truck-stop hooker for those earrings, all while she rocks Madonna hands.

Maybe it’s just because we sadistic psychopaths have to stick together, but I’m pleasantly surprised at how awesome all those dead cat skins look sewn together in one murderous textile, Homegirl looks good. Oh sure, that bitter old queen Michael Kors would rip her to shreds and dash her dreams just like he did with beautiful unicorn Casanova, but he’s just jealous.



Look, it’s all doing something for me, I think she looks flawless (and soulless.) I have but a small quibble with an apparent lack of originality. Seriously, what kind of low-rent, Dollar Store Cruella DeVil bullsh*t is this!? Girlfriend, I’m only saying this because we’re clearly sisters from other misters , but you’re one cigarette holder away from a Disney cease and desist letter.

Step off, Dahling!

Step off, Dahling!

One more thing, Evil Oma, YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO DO YOUR HAIR-BRAINED SCHEME IN TEXAS! Look lady, I don’t have to tell you these days there are rumors and hushed whispers that Texas is the new Florida, and you’re not helping. Would it have killed you to move your catwalk to Tallahassee?

That being said, I’m glad to see that she’s still using her professional skills even though she’s a “retired fashion designer,” I think all senior citizens could learn a lesson from this Silver fox.

It makes sense that she’s a fashion designer, seeing as “being batsh*t crazy” is the first line of the job description. Let’s face it, if there’s one thing binge watching Project Runway while scarfing Biscoff spread in our pajama jeans has taught us, it’s that fashion designers be nuts, yo.



I’ll close with a 100% true story.

Back when I was a young strumpet on the ho-stroll, I was convinced that I’d never feel romantic hartwarms for anyone, ever. As I prepared myself for a life spent not giving a f*ck about lurve and all the other dumb crap that gets in the way of one’s own nefarious designs, I realized that:

1. I’m too evil and slutty to be a Nun

2. Golden Girl Friendship houses are not nearly as fun without Dorothy Zbornak.

That meant that I was going to have to go the classic crazy cat lady route. Can you even imagine your beautiful & gloriously narcissistic, genius narrator as a cat enthusiast!? Well, you don’t have to picture it, because I’m going to break it down for you new Millennium me-style.

Picture it, the year 2000. Justin Timberlake is the only true star of NSYNC, even though Princess Lance’s frosted tips are a close second, when yours truly came up with a brilliant business plan. Post college, I would buy a house and completely cover it in velvet. From floor to ceiling, the entire abode would be enrobed in luscious velvet. I would then take said home and fill it with cats, at least 20. Oh don’t worry, I’d have an automatic liter box for each kitty. Afterall, this isn’t Animal Hoarders, this is a modest cash crop. See, my grand plan was to collect the accumulation of cat fur daily, and then weave buckets of cat fuzz into sweaters that I would call, “Pussy Pullovers.” In the event my idea became a hit sensation (which it totally would have been), I would then open up additional IDENTICAL “Harvest Houses,” where cat ladies (sorry fellas!) would live free of charge provided they kept the home’s multiple automatic cat litter boxes working and they harvested the hair, I know what you’re thinking, CRIBSY, THAT’S A MILLION DOLLAR IDEA, WHY DID YOU WALK AWAY FROM SUCH A PERFECT IDEA!?!?

Because I chose love. That’s right kids, the only reason I’m not the head of a lucrative “Pussy Pullovers” empire and it’s equally successful sister company, “Doggy Stylez,” is because a baby-faced know-it-all strolled into my heart, and it’s been Fleet week in my soul ever since.



(Thanks, Derrick!)

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