Remember when you were innocent and unspoilt? Remember when you were fermenting your Gerber apple sauce into prison wine via a sippy cup crammed into the radiator, and the lockdown siren went off and you had to crouch under your bunk like some kinda wayward hobo? No? Well KDD does. She hasn’t forgotten the pact you made when she slipped that razor blade under her tongue to keep the screws offa your newbie muhfukin butt when they tossed your cell. So when you see THIS face, youngblood–you better get to steppin’. ‘Cuz the alarm coming out of Kitty DrunkDrunk’s loose-hanging jaw sounds a little like this: WIIIIIiiiiIIIInnnNNNNE!! WIiiIIIINNNnnnEEEEE! She’ll take a nice Chardonnay with overtones of murder please, sommelier.
Every morning is an adventure when you start the day by extracting an unconscious cat from the toilet with a pair of barbecue tongs. Just follow the whimsical trail of lukewarm vomit plops trailing down the hallway and the eye-watering stank of drugstore knock-off Brut cologne. K DD is under the (mistaken) impression that if she douses herself with enough, it will mask the odor of cannabis steaming from her Coors Light-encrusted pelt. Well I can guarantee she will suddenly not be so drowsy when she hears me open the fridge and then she will come tumbling in, waving the sopping toilet brush like a smiting wand, bellowing for chardonnay, which she refers to as “wet food”. Disgraceful.
K DD has been staring in dismay at these “wine eggs” she bought from that guy at the bus station for HOURS but they haven’t hatched yet. She’s starting to lose her buzz, dammit! I told her maybe she should try stomping them but she just got indignant and accused me of trying to have an intervention. Don’t tell her but I’m secretly planning one anyway with my support group, “People Who Love Cats Who Love Booze More Than They Love People”. It’s going to be an absolute bloodbath. The last time we tried an intervention she was so wasted she thought it was a Kitty DrunkDrunk celebrity roast and just kept tenting her fingers and smiling and nodding as if our complaints about her horrible behavior were actually amusing, affectionate anecdotes.
Apparently K DD’s spirit animal is a nice Chardonnay. She went staggering into Sears to get her head shots done because some guy at the TGIFridays at the mall told her she could be an actress and said to meet him behind the Home Depot for a “screen test”. By the time she left, the poor Sears guy was in absolute TEARS. Nothing in his community college photography class prepared him for the ghostly wine glass shaped aura that appears around her in EVERY SINGLE PICTURE. Eerie, oui?
If you’re looking for someone to maul your sandwich in a chardonnay-induced rage and then pass out on it, Kitty DrunkDrunk would like to offer her services. She has years of experience with becoming unconscious atop a variety of foodstuffs and will work for scale. Her contract requires several boxes of wine, a large saucer, and a diaper.