So the other day I was thinking about money and realized that with regards to the cats, a lot goes out but nothing comes in. So I came up with a couple plans on how to finally see some return on those furry  little investments.

Plan A: The Fur Farm (in my apartment)

Seriously, like you haven’t stroked a cat and thought so soft, so warm, so much like the perfect coat for my mom… This plan only lasted about 10 minutes until I realized that all of my cats were female (and spayed). My second problem was that even between the three of them, I’d just end up with some wacked out fuzzy sweater. Mental note to self: next time, color coordinate the cats.

Plan B: The Wild (?) Game Farm (in my apartment)papa?

To enrich the experience, I would even toss in my dog as a hunting dog. (Full disclosure: he doesn’t so much walk as wobble and he’s likely to bolt at the first gunshot but he’s really good with children). Recognizing that the whole hunting experience just comes down to the glamor shot with the kill, I’d even snap my customers some memories with my digital camera. A little photoshop and that housecat will look like Mufasa. Of course, then I thought to myself, do I really need to increase my chances of being shot in Harlem? And frankly, if I’m going to be shot, I’m going to be taken out by a blood or a crip, not some fat old, white dude decked out in last year’s camouflage.

Plan C: Kitty Porn

Knowing that if there are two things America likes, it’s sex and cats. Not necessarily together– until now. Unfortunately, a quick google search revealed that I was dead wrong. It’s been done before- like 774,000 times. I think as a country, it might be time to just pack it up and call it quits. Look, we had a good run, we really did: the constitution turned out well, Madonna had some great music. There’s no need to keep pushing. Really.

Plan D: Cat Fighting

This one required some more research. I don’t know anyone who fights cats per se but the guy next door has two big pit bulls. I grabbed him this morning as he was coming out his front door and asked him if I could get some recommendations. Three hours later, the Humane Society showed up and started asking the cats some uncomfortable questions.