9/19/2003
When I was about 18 yrs old I was driving home from a night out of drinking, and ran over an already dead cat on the road in front of my house.
I pulled over and thought it had been runned over repeatedly, I recognzied it as my own cat. So I peel the dead cat off the road put it in my car and pull into my garage at home.
I still lived with my parents, So i go into the house crying, waking everyone up. My parents were trying to console me because I forgot to explain the cat was already dead when I ran it over.
After 20 minutes of being in the warm house the cat began to reek, So I proceeded to the backyard with a shovel in my hand. Just as I began to dig my dad yelled from the house "Hey asshole you can quit bawling now, you're cat is right here in the kitchen!
It wasn't my cat after all boy did I feel stupid.
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