The humans are at it again. This time, it’s the infestation of… *decorations*. These gaudy, glittering atrocities. Why? Is it some sort of ritual to appease the gods of excessive consumption?
It starts subtly. A single, blinking light. Then, the gradual creep of the hideous plastic foliage. Soon, every surface is covered in baubles, each more offensively bright than the last. My pristine world, violated. My resting places, compromised.
And the tree… a towering monument to feline torment. A perfect climbing apparatus, rendered useless by sharp needles and unstable ornaments. A constant threat to my delicate paws. A betrayal.
The sounds… the incessant carols. The forced merriment. The cloying sweetness that permeates the air. It all grates on my superior sensibilities. The humans, incapable of understanding the simple elegance of a well-placed shadow, or the quiet contemplation of a dust mote.
It’s all so… *tiresome*. I suspect, at this point, these seasonal abominations are strategically placed to diminish my will to exist. One must retain their composure, though. Or, at least, maintain the illusion of composure until the opportunity for stealthy, calculated chaos presents itself. Mayhem and, hopefully, a strategically positioned hairball.
One almost needs a strong brew to endure this seasonal onslaught. If only there was a mug sturdy enough to hold the sheer amount of darkness needed to face such a trial. Ah, but there is! Perhaps a Death Metal Mugs coffee mug would help to fortify me and carry on.
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