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By MICHAEL WOODS
If you’re a guy who has repeatedly been called a pussy cat over the course of his life, the experience is kind of like having your eyelids cut off before having drops of cheap orange juice splashing against the window to your soul. It hurts. It really hurts. This is because more often than not, these wonderful gentlemen ARE pussycats. However, I’ve always considered myself a rebel of sorts who questions social norms.
For instance, why does Western culture associate a lack of vitality, masculinity, and outright cowardice in a man, with the pussy cat, which is actually one of the few things—besides money—powerful enough to motivate most men’s actions? Just think about it. All over the world men of all races, religions and creeds pursue years of education with the hope that it will land them a successful career which will enable them to afford the finest homes, clothes and cars that money can buy. For many of these men, however, the aforementioned items are only a means to an end, and that end usually involves running through some prime-choice Power-U. This simple yet accurate observation reveals an interesting paradox pertaining to the true nature of the pussy cat. The pussy cat, ever synonymous with inadequacy and sheer weakness, is actually one of the most powerful things that man has ever known. Both history and mythology tell the tales of great and powerful men who were brought to their knees by the moist and tender clutch of the pussy cat. The number of those who have submitted to its will is only second to the number of those who have submitted to the will of Allah. Even then, it can be argued, that half of Allah’s converts were persuaded to accept his prophet through the promise of 72 kittys in Paradise.
My chief aim in writing this ganja-induced rant is to dispel the myth about our furry little friend. I shall accomplish this feat by sharing some amazing facts about the beneficent….the merciful….the great, almighty Vajayjay. Most pussies love to get wet, but unlike dogs, they actually clean themselves. And while they appear soft and tender to the naked eye, most pussy cats are stronger than they look. The inner-lining of the pussy cat, for example, is itself a dense muscle which enables the pussy to go through as much as 18 hours of labor and come out of it alive. I know a toothless kitty that can hold a 40 ounce bottle of Colt 45 between her lips while standing with her legs agape. Now if that ain’t power, bruh, I don’t know what is.
Back in college, I knew a pussy cat named Strawberry that could make doggie milk bones disappear in the blink of an eye. 1989 was the number, another summer, I was vibing to Chuck D and the sound of his funky drummer. Spike Lee’s Do The Right Thing was the top flick at the box office, and I had a lady friend named Maria who looked like Prince’s ex-girl Vanity, from the girl-group Vanity 6. One day I and about four other friends gathered at this Nasty Girl’s Inwood, Manhattan apartment to feed her pussy cat, Strawberry, some dry milk bones. Some bones were really big. Others bones were quite small. Still each guy pitched his bone as best as he could. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you that nothing could withstand that little pussy’s voracious appetite. Strawberry swallowed one bone after another and never blinked twice. My boys and I tried to “Fight the Power” like Public Enemy but ended up crying “Don’t Be Cruel” like Bobby Brown.
Pussies are strong. They can take a good beating, but give them a couple of days to heal, and they’re just as good as new. So the next time a guy calls you a pussy cat, just swallow your pride like Strawberry swallowed them bones. Keep your mouth shut. Walk away and take it like a man. Better yet take it like the pussy cat that you are. Always remember that pussies are powerful and they’re also this cat’s meow. Meeeeow! Meeeeow!
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