100 bottles of beer on the wall

Oh how I wish that was the song that was in my head because there were 100 bottles of beer on my wall-or at least in my fridge. Instead, I have that same tune in my head but instead of singing '100 bottles of beer on the wall' I am singing '100 piles of puke on the floor.'

I am about ready to fly to Japan, start a new life SANS cats.

I know no one cares (and it is entirely disgusting) but I am just going so completely crazy with all of this that if I don't vent somewhere the Japan life could become reality in about 3 seconds. So, newest development. Like I said, last night I picked up 8 piles of puke, which brought the overall total to 26. SSCCREEAAAMM. And when I posted, I said that Emerson was going through the 'puke motions.' And Berkeley was in position. Emerson's never came out. I went and found her with her head tilted back, eating it back in. I then had to go sit in the bathroom for five minutes from the pure grossness of that and will myself not to just walk out and forget about puke forever. Then I had to forcefully shove my fingers down both cats throats to give them medicine to STOP THIS MADNESS. Do you know how gross and degrading it is to your whole being to put your fingers down a mouth that licks an ass on a multiple times daily basis? This morning I get up and find: a) Three more piles of puke from Berkeley b) two yellow piles of something from Emerson...my question is, is it puke or piss? I don't know. That is to be determined. c) wads and clumps of hair from Emerson. Massive.

Being the neglectful person I am, I barely fed either of them anything this morning because I am so damn sick and tired of being the pooper and puker scooper. Why should I feed them if I am just going to have to pick up the regurgitated mess that has greeted every part of my floor?! So, instead I gave them a tiny bit of food and 3 hairball treats. I am such a freakin loser. All I've done this week is pick up puke and go to the vet. Do you now see why I don't want to be a parent? I have no desire to do anything worthwhile after I've picked up crap all night. So I don't. People ask what I've done the night before and I say, "Oh just picked up puke and then sat on my ass thinking about how disgusting that just was. Then go to sleep and dream about cats barfing on my head." Such a life, such a life.

I can't wait to see how many piles I get to add to my total when I get home tonight. I really think there is a good chance I could make it to 100. And then I really WILL need to have 100 bottles of beer. All. to. myself. And in Japan.