UPDATE
A reader sent in this photo of a cat in a stroller that is whisked around town by its owners:
I thought the end of America would be a long, slow decline over generations, but now I think it might happen in a matter of years.
My man about town, Dodgeball Dan, called from an undisclosed location to inform me that there was a young-ish couple walking a cat on a leash. He was so repulsed and simultaneously fascinated that he had to tell me as the action was going down.
DD: Dude, there’s a couple walking a cat on a leash. I can’t believe what I’m seeing.
Me: Is the guy a herb*?
DD: Oh yeah, total herb. And of course his girlfriend is cute. [To the couple] Hey, does he fetch?
Herb: Only indoors.
DD: He looks a little confused.
Herb: It’s his first time outside.
DD: [Back to me] Wow. Oh man. The herb just picked the cat up like a baby, cradled it, and carried it off. These are the end times for America.
Between this:
and this:
these are indeed the end times for America. It’s not so much the decadence that’s doing us in, it’s the silliness. (Open borders, cats on leashes… it all flows from the same juvenile mindset.)
*herb, noun – a schlumpy, nondescript white guy with no fashion sense, chin, or sexual gravitas, who has managed to hook up with a cute chick. Herbs usually wear satchels to nightclubs and button down collar shirts with the Hanes undershirt peaking through at the neck. They love anything khaki and are not embarrassed to be seen wearing fanny packs or sandals. A super herb takes it up a notch with white athletic socks and an extra-large t-shirt to hide his man boobs. They have a walk that can be best described as looking like they are carrying a load in their pants. They will annoy you just by being there. The fact that a herb will have usually managed to score a cute yuppie chick will fill you with violent feelings toward him.
[crypto-donation-box]
