You've convinced me to click on a picture of a black cat, and all I get is a page in Russian.
I'm not very fond of cats right now. I spent the last week at my brothers helping with renovations, and trying to sleep on the couch. I say trying, because his cat wouldn't shut up all night long, and liked to sneek up on me, and stick its face in mine. While I was sleeping. There is nothing quite like kitty breath at 2 inches when you've just woke up.
And right after I told it how much I didn't like it, and tried to lock in the closet (there was a water bowl and a kitty box, so isn't as bad as it sounds) it bit me, then started purring and walking between my legs.
Which is why cats are evil.
Dogs make poo on the floor, but don't have that crazy Al Pacino vendetta style to making you made that cats do. Seriously bite me, then weave between my legs?
Whose Begemot, again? And I'll give my consent to any government that does not deny a man a living wage-Billy Bragg
Begemot (Behemoth) is a huge chess-playing, vodka-drinking, pistol-toting black cat who walks around on his hind legs and who shows up in Moscow with the Devil in Bulgakov's novel, "The Master and Margarita."
It's a book everyone should read before they die. "Pretending that you already know the answer when you don't is not actually very helpful." ~Migeru.
