Round TWO! This is your chance to decide which cat I will adopt as my new pet.
Each of these cats is currently living at a non-profit, no-kill pet shelter in Los Angeles. But while this competition is in process, they are all residing at a 10,000 square foot mansion in Malibu, complete with indoor and outdoor jacuzzi, a bar in every room, and a landing pad for the obligatory helicopter date.
At the end of this recap, please vote for the TOP THREE CATS you think are the best match for me, and next week I will narrow it all the way down to “the one.” Vote as much as you like.
Nine cats are left standing at the top of tonight’s episode after I said goodbye to Feral Darryl last week.
Poor Feral Darryl. It turns out he has a really weird infection in an area polite conversation dare not name. And it would have required me to give him an ointment using a rubber surgical glove and applied weekly in a manner that, well… I don’t think I want to go any further. Let’s just say Darryl and I aren’t gonna work out.
Moving on. This week’s first one-on-one date goes to Kalista, the nine year old domestic short-hair calico who’s had all her shots and likes to eat string.
For our date, I took Kalista to the Capitol Records building in Hollywood where I had planned for the two of us to record a version of “The Siamese Cat Song” from Lady and the Tramp. Instead, Kalista went off to the corner to chew the pull-cord off a Venetian blind, then she fell asleep for thirteen hours.
When she woke up, I took her to the roof for the obligatory “cough up something deep about yourself” segment. I went first: I admitted to Kalista I was selfish with my feelings. Then it was Kalista’s turn and, well, she literally coughed something up. It looked like part of a bird beak or maybe the sharp end of a mini golf course pencil. Neither of us was really sure. But she picked the sticky glob up anyway and handed it to me saying, “Keep this as a memento of our special night together.” Then we just stared up at the stars together. And every so often I’d stick my hands in seafood and let her lick my fingers.
And can we talk about Dinky? There’s always one cat on these shows who’s just a total psycho, right? The other cats in the mansion call her “Dinky Drama,” and she really proved that to be true when she got wasted on Jack Daniels and cornered me on the veranda, refusing to be ignored.
Generally, when one of these cats sidles up to the me after tossing back a few, they paste on their innocent faces and say sweet things like, “Wow, it’s really chilly out,” or “When I’m with you my tail sticks straight up into the air!” Instead, drunk Dinky went with, “Well you knooooow… I had alllllll my teeth pulled out but one! And sometimes I lick myself behind the dryer… so there’s that. Don’t judge! I went to junior college!”
Then she looked up at me with her snaggle tooth and her slightly crossed left eye, and farted without seeming to notice.
Marshmallow got a little one on one time with me later in the evening and revealed that she used to be something of a bad girl. In fact she’s given birth 57 times and left most of them behind a Target in Woodland Hills!
Marshmallow thought I might be horrified by this revelation, but instead I was really touched at the way she opened up to me. I gave her a rose right on the spot and Marshmallow proclaimed, “I’m the most special diabetic Persian half-breed in the entire world!” Then another kitten shot out of her and she accidentally sat down on it and smothered it to death. But it’s all ok. Before anyone could get too grossed out, she ate it. I gotta admit, she’s really here to win, that Marshmallow!
And Oreo is still wrenching her paws over whether or not to tell me about her emotionally-devastating back story before we go on our date.
She confided in the other cats that she has an addiction to those little colored plastic top thingies from milk cartons. She’s gone to rehab addiction centers nea rme and everything but she just can’t stop herself.
My evening with Oreo was a roller-coaster ride of emotions. But as far as dates between psychologically shorted-out cats with the inability to make eye contact and emotionally infantile men with deep commitment issues go, I’d say it was pretty good overall Me: “Tell me about yourself.” Oreo: “Oh… you know… when I’m tired or feeling sad, I sometimes just poop right there where I’m laying.” I think Oreo knew right then she might be turning me off, but I looked past it. Really, who among us isn’t guilty of at least one “sloth poop” in their lives?
Meanwhile, just before the Rose Ceremony, Lady Gray took me aside and told me that she wasn’t sure she wanted to continue. “I don’t know that’s it’s healthy for me to surround myself with this much crazy pussy!” she confided. I reminded her that Chris Harrison has been doing it for seventeen seasons and now he has three sports cars and a room in his house just for cocaine! But she refused to listen and bolted before the Rose Ceremony even began, shocking all the other remaining cats, including this one.
In the end, aside from losing Feral Darryl and Lady Gray, I had to send three other cats packing, including Katya
Katya’s final words: “I wouldn’t have done a thing differently… I think he was intimidated by me… you know, I’m talented, smart, successful… the list could go on. His loss!”
Also going home this week was Suzi: “I’m totally bummed out. It’s a blow to the ego, let’s be serious. Maybe I’m not as cool as I think”
And Rocco: “I knew it hurt my chances not letting him see me in a bathing suit, but I have my pride.”
That leaves five cats in the running: Oscar, Kalista, Marshmallow, Oreo and Dinky. For the first time ever, I really believe those dudes on The Bachelor when they say they can’t make up their minds. So, I leave it to you, readers. Your top two choices last time around were Kalista and Oscar, and they’re both still in the running. Now it’s time to vote again for your TOP THREE CATS below. Vote as often as you like, and check back to Tv Food and Drink to see who my new cat will be.
YES… I’m really doing it this way.
And YES… I do so have a job!
It just doesn’t start ’til April.