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Because I love you all, and want you to know about all the finer things in life, I’m going to share some more of my television viewing favorites with all of you.

These two recommendations are not surprisingly, of the reality genre, and surprisingly, on MTV.

The first show is Rob & Big. This show is brought to you by the same people that created the masterpiece that was Jackass. But don’t be alarmed - it’s not a bunch of skaters hopped up on meth and horse tranquilizers shoving things up their ass and putting cattle prods on their balls. It is about a skater - a tiny, white skater, and his giant black bodyguard and all the shenanigans they get into. It’s silly, it’s slapstick, and it’s 30 minutes of fun. I don’t laugh out loud at very many tv shows, but this is one I always laugh at. A magazine called it one of “the funniest shows you’re not watching”.I feel like I’m about twenty years older than their target audience, but I love it.

The second show is also on MTV, and it’s called The Paper. This is another show that, in spite of being on MTV, doesn’t make me feel skeevy when I get done watching it. It’s about a high school paper in Florida, and the new editor, Amanda - a funny, way less annoying version of Tracy Flick. It’s always interesting to see different perspectives of the high school experience - especially given that mine was so completely miserable. So far, this show is good stuff.

I am ashamed to admit that, even though I say every year I’m not watching it again, I’m watching the Real World, and as per usual, I hate every single person on the show. Awesome.

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Last night when I came home from work, I realized that we had a situation with Ike, and that he would need to see the vet. He had worms once a few years ago, so when I saw the poop stuck all over his ass, and the streaks on my floor, I knew that’s what it was.

I dread having to take Ike to the vet. For one, because as soon as he sees the carrier, he loses his mind and runs from me, and trying to wrangle that giant furball into that carrier is a job and a half. But I finally got him in, and headed to the vet’s office, all the while panicking about how much it was going to cost me to fix him, since I don’t really have any money currently. Usually, with one particular vet in this office, if I cry and freak out and tell him how I can’t afford stuff, he’ll take things off of the bill. He has literally saved me about two thousand dollars in the last few years. He is a gem. (Please, People Who Are Perfect, don’t take this opportunity to tell me how stupid I am for spending so much money on an animal. I don’t go to your website and tell you that you’ve OD’d on prick pills, now, have I?)

So a doctor came in, one that I hadn’t seen there before. (Where in the hell was Dr. Vasquez, dammit?) He came in, said hello, and then went to open the cat carrier. I looked at him, and warned him. “He’s pretty fiesty. He hates the vet, so he’s going to get really aggressive when you pick him up.” (Then the doctor gave me the look every single time I have a blood test and I tell the lab person that I’m a hard stick, and they look really condescending, and give me some crap about being a professional, doing it every day, blah blah blah, and then proceed to stab me ten times because GUESS WHAT I’M A HARD STICK.)

But he didn’t pick Ike up at all. He grabbed some fur, stuck him with a needle, and closed the carrier. He said, “Ok, you’re done. If you still see worms in a week, bring him back.” I was not prepared for this. Last time there was butt-shaving, anal gland-expressing, heavy sedation, etc. I was all prepared to cry and get hysterical, but I didn’t have to. But then I realized, he still had poop in all of his fur on his backside.

“Uh, but what about the poop?”

“Give him a bath.”

“Hahahahahaha.” I laughed hard. “Oh, wait - you’re serious??”

“Well, you can take him to a groomer, or leave him here and we’ll sedate him and groom him, but obviously, that’s going to cost you more.”

Shit. So I just said thank you, paid my bill (only $25, thank god) and took my stinky, pissed off cat and went home. I left him in the carrier and took him in the bathroom and shut the door. My bathroom is tiny, so there’s really nowhere for him to go, so I was confident I could probably do it. I turned on the water, grabbed the shower nozzle, and took Ike out of the carrier and put him in the bathtub. HE DID NOT LIKE THIS. He started flailing all over, meowing furiously, and looking at me like I had committed the ultimate betrayal, which of course made me feel terrible. I kept saying stupid things like, “I’m doing this for you because I love you!” and “Why are you making this so hard, don’t you realize I love you” and “Be a good boy! Be mommy’s good boy!” (Yes, I really said that. Ugh.) I was trying to hold down a giant 15-pound cat, work the shower nozzle, and put soap on a washrag all at the same time. (I assume Olay body wash is ok for a cat, but who knows. I guess we’ll find out.) There was hair everywhere, water everywhere, it was a mess. Finally, the water started to run clear, and he wasn’t going to go one more minute before he bit my face off, so I let go and he immediately jumped out of the tub. I tried to dry him off, but he wouldn’t let me.

So for the next few hours, he looked like this:

Poor kitty.