Well, I didn't get far

I submit this entry with much shame in my eyes. A couple of nights ago, I burst free from captivity in the big monkey's lair once and for all, wrecking my way through the bathroom window. Once on the street, I hustled about a half mile down the dark city streets and started to get mighty hungry. I searched for some food on the street, along the houses and storefronts. Eventually, I found an open trash can some possum had knocked over, and I began to rummage through it. I found what looked like a perfectly good 1/3 of a chicken sandwich, but upon biting into it, I tasted something moving in my jowls. Yes, some sort of worm-ish insect had inhabited my meal to be, and I.......well, I flipped out. I hurled it up, and I backed into a dark corner to shake off my nastiness. The problem with that was I had backed into an occupied corner and a mean looking street cat with a missing eye rushed me, tail puffed and mohawk flaring, and clocked me upside the face pretty hard. Shook up, I turned and hustled back home, up through the window and across the kitchen floor to the auto-feeder cat food silo that keeps me fat and happy, and I binged. I binged so hard that I woke up an hour later and horked it all back up on one of the monkey's stupid laptop computers.

Needless to mention, I felt low low low this morning, and spent most of the day sleeping in the sunlight, trying not to think of what the rest of The Movement would think of the velvet house cat I had become. I hope you will not judge me, either, as I have imparted much judgement upon myself. Fearing my will has been broken by the enslaving monkeys, I have decided to meditate on the subject, and ask the Great Whisker what I should do. I must be sure that I have the juice to run The Movement when the time is right. I'll let you know what the Great Whisker says. This could very well be my last entry.