This Cat’s Purrfect Superbowl

February 4, 2016

By Adele

For starters, we’ve finally learned how high the NFL can count in Roman numerals — XLIX.

(If you have any idea what that number is without a Superbowl attached to it, you must not be a football player. You’re too smart.)

The other day CBS This Morning previewed some Superbowl commercials, including one for Heinz with a herd of “hotdogs” running through a field. What some mutts won’t do for 30 seconds of fame. Sheesh.

Anyway, it reminded me there’s a Superbowl coming and I realized it’s become a vast terrorist organization right on American soil when I saw…

Superbowl 50

An ARABIC number! Why aren’t Donald Trump and Ted Cruz demanding the NFL’s immediate deportation?

Cats Working readers know there’s no love for football here, but this is one Superbowl we can’t ignore because it’s between CATS and HORSES.

OK, they call themselves Panthers and Broncos.

For once, I’d like to see kicked to the sidelines all the concussed humans who prance around in tight little pants while REAL cats and horses play the game.

You’d see so much galloping up and down the field, nobody could keep track of yards.

If any horse had a down, depending on its severity, that horse might have to be put down on the spot. Talk about suspense and violence.

When cats made touchdowns, you’d see true athletes leaping OVER the goal posts.

What you WOULDN’T see is any butt-fondling or players writhing on the ground in big gay heaps. It would be claw vs. hoof competition at its finest.

But, sadly, this Superbowl will be all human again, and it will undoubtedly drag into Downton Abbey, so we won’t be watching.

Cats Working roots for the Panthers, naturally, but won’t hold a grudge if the Broncos win, since some of our best friends wear saddles.


Time for Football to Come Out

February 18, 2014

By Cole

So this hunky defensive lineman at the University of Missouri, Michael Sam, announces he’s gay, and the football world goes into a tailspin.

Will Sam still get picked for an NFL team? Will other players tolerate him in the locker room? How will the fans deal with it?

Well, let a cat address the elephant in this room…

Football is already the gayest sport EVER.

Karen doesn’t know I occasionally watch football on weekends when she’s out running errands. But as a red-blooded, all-American tomcat, I have enjoyed rooting for my teams. The Missouri Tigers would be a college example, along with the Carolina Panthers, Cincinnati Bengals, Detroit Lions, and Jacksonville Jaguars in the NFL.

And this is what I see…

Grown men prancing around in extremely tight, short pants that they must find so fetching, they can’t resist touching each other’s butts.

When they aren’t playing grab-ass, they spend inordinate amounts of time posing in intricate formations like chorus girls rehearsing some Busby Berkley extravaganza.

When someone manages to actually throw the ball, they all use it as an excuse to crash into another player and engage in full-body hugs before everybody flings themselves on top of each other in a heap.

And while they have a mass dry-hump on the ground, the crowd watching from the stands cheers them on.

Golf has its sissy outfits, and baseball has men swinging their bats, but neither can hold a candle to the gayness of football.

Football players are typically brawny and think they’re tough — as long as they CAN think — because the evidence is in that the sport scrambles some of their brains beyond recognition. It’s a high price to pay for a game that delivers 3% action and 97% snooze time (which is why cats like it).

But as Michael Sam proves, gay has no particular body type. If Sam does get in to the NFL, out-of-shape couch potatoes who waste endless hours following this feckless sport had better have their cardiologists on speed dial.

I predict that players they’ve idolized as ruthless killers on the field will start making some shocking confessions, revealing that the locker room has never been the testosterone-soaked sanctuary everybody thought it was.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

But let’s face it. American’s have a worldwide reputation as silly prudes. Yet we’re obsessed with watching men engage in fully padded orgies — wearing helmets.

How much kinkier can you get?


Cat Predicts Super Bowl Winner

February 5, 2012

By Max

Three years in a row since 2009, the cats in a shelter run by the Cat Adoption Team in Sherwood, Oregon, have correctly picked the winning Super Bowl team. This year, can a calico named Sue Bee extend their streak to 4 years? Watch how she does it. (The gabby human in the helmet is pretty annoying. The prediction comes at the end, so feel free to skip ahead.)

OK, if you didn’t watch the video, Sue Bee picked the Patriots. Cats Working concurs because Karen is from New England, although we’ll have to read about the winner in the paper tomorrow because we’re not watching the game.

Karen tells us football is the only sport that makes men’s figure skating look macho. Why are so many Americans willing to spend hours watching grown men throw themselves to the ground on top of each other and dry hump? When the guys finally get up, they grab each other’s butts. The real sports action (running, throwing, kicking a ball) is sporadic and too brief.

You can understand why Jerry Sandusky was drawn to football. It’s like a puritanical form of gay porn that “regular” men don’t have to feel guilty watching. If the players didn’t wear helmets, they’d probably exchange chaste kisses (with a penalty for tongue — just to keep it “clean”) after every “play.”

Instead, we’ll be watching Puppy Bowl VIII on Animal Planet at 3 p.m. (ET). Yes, it’s dogs, but if any of them start humping, you’ll know it’s just innocent fun — they’re PUPPIES!

The Super Bowl can keep its stupid commercials and Madonna. Cats will be cheering for the Piggy Pep Quad and the Kitty Half-Time Show.


%d bloggers like this: