Spaghetti a la Gatto

They feed me, they pet me, they brush me. WHY does no one realise I am being TORTURED!!

Allow me to let you in on a secret here. I HAVE to eat. If I don't eat their food, I will lose my strength and full mental capacity. I do not eat their food out of CHOICE. Remember that the one time I had a chance at feeding myself, they captured, named and released my food in the wild!

My dignity is approaching zilch. You have already seen the infeline humiliation they have subjected me to in the past weeks. They delight in my suffering and rage.

Now they have reached a new level of torture. No longer are they spending time fashioning hats and helmets out of beloved household utensils. I'm being dressed in their SUPPER!

Fellow felines of the world, hear my call. Honour the late Filippo Tommaso Marinetti, absorb his superb vision! May their spaghettis tie their throats, their tortellinis weigh down their bellies, and may their tagiatelle flap inside them in disgust!

They can wrap my head in pasta but they cannot tie down my thoughts!