A cat (Felis diabolo) was caught trying to sneak escape tools into a Brazilian prison, Arapiraca. It had concealed a saw, a mobile phone, drills, an earphone, a memory card, batteries and a phone charger on its non-person with duct tape.
Authorities suspect all 263 inmates at the prison, but can’t get the cat to name names.
‘It’s tough to find out who’s responsible for the action as the cat doesn’t speak,’ a prison spokesperson told local paper Estado de S.Paulo.
If this is a plot by cats to break prisoners out and unleash havoc in Brazil, then one of their ringleaders got this cat’s tongue. It’s probably just as well because you know its voice would have sounded ridiculous, maybe like Celebrity Jeopardy Sean Connery wearing a Darth Vader mask.
A woman in Massachusetts has decided to offer a fairly large reward for her cat: it’s a song to the tune of 2000 dollars. We don’t know what the lady does for a living, or why she’s so much of a species traitor as to offer that much money for a cat when she could buy a lot of kittens with that amount.
All we know is this: finally, humans will benefit from the stupidity of animals.
Graeme Swann, who is a star “spinner” for what we’re told is a sport called “cricket,” was pulled over for drunk driving because his cat got stuck in the floorboards of his home.
Well, first he was pulled over for driving a Porsche in a s#@tty neighborhood. Then he apparently sounded drunk when trying to explain to the officer that his cat had crawled into his house’s floor.
A blood test confirmed that he was 3 mg over the legal limit, but milligrams are as foreign to us as a sport where players dress like picnickers in Mary Poppins. So, we have no idea if he was really smashed or just booze-ness casual.
The story also fails to mention if the cat is still stuck in the floorboards.
I woke up at 4 am this morning to the soundtrack from Pearl Harbor. No, not Michael Bay’s crapwork of a film. I mean air raid sirens. I leapt out of bed and fumbled with the alarm clock for a little bit–at first, to mistakenly turn it off, and then to turn on the radio to find out what the hell was going on.
I couldn’t find the radio button, so I scrambled to the living room. On the way, I tripped over the vacuum cleaner, careening it into the cockatiel’s cage and freaking him out. For good measure, I also yelled out the cat’s name while stubbing my toe on the coffee table.