Fun Fact Friday - Kittens of Doom

"Woah! Kittens of doom‽" I like to imagine you exclaiming whilst you braid your extra long armpit hair. You see, dear reader, in my mind you are very engaged in reading this interblag and a bit of a freak. And I know the facts don't bear that out. The google masters say that you should actually be part of some Latvian phishing scam. But I don't like to think of you that way. I like to think of you as a part-time nudist, a full-time sassy mentor, and someone who should perhaps find hobbies that don't include extreme body hair manipulation. But enough about you! There are kittens to discuss!

Holy fuckbuttons! They're spooning! Flurbinkgutskunk!

Fun fact: People once believed that cats stole babies' breath.

By which I mean to say that people think cats are murderers. And yes, cats are violent little killers. Scientists did a study that said cats are the deadliest motherfuckers out there. But killing human babies? That seems a little farfetched. Not farfetched enough to mean that people don't still believe it. But what do you want? People to be rational? I'm sorry. You seem to be in the wrong place.

The superstition seems to go back to people thinking cats were witches' bitches. Or, if you're into folkloric terminology, familiars. Basically cats would go out and do witches' bidding, which obviously includes killing babies.

Underpants.

A coroner's report from 1791 actually cited strangulation by a cat as the cause of death. And sure, we can all sneer and say, "That was the 1700s!" but four years ago some doctors writing for the Houston Chronicle said that cats get wicked jealous of newborns and sit on their faces. To murder them. That's right. Pediatric experts said in the year 2009 that they think cats are capable of premeditated murder. Because cats have mens rea written all over their smug little faces.

Murder, I say! Murder!

And I don't know where I planned to go with this fun fact, dear reader. We started with your armpit hair and somehow ended up with doctors providing a new, if implausible, "ripped from the headlines" plot twist for the writers of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. But here we are. And my beloved cat, who I have affectionately nicknamed Pooper, is still wandering in the wild outdoors. Which is a terrible shame because I desperately need to hug him and tell him that I know that if he were going to murder me he surely would have done it by now because I snuggle the bejeezus out of him when he would really prefer to be sleeping. And he's a cat. He's a fucking cat. Who honestly would probably appreciate it if a baby appeared and starting shitting everywhere because then my unemployed ass would have less time to relentlessly assault him with cuddles. But here we are, my dear Latvian phishing scheme reader. Here we are.