“Same litter, different day”? Well, buck up, Fluffin, because National Cat Day is upon us! While losers (dogs) celebrate their place in the nation’s consciousness with the usual tricked-up bit of sleazy Westminster snore-biz, cats are, as always, embracing not only their beloved one-percenters, but YOU, too – that is, the common, unwashed rabble (specifically, select food-providing constituents of the much-maligned 99 percent). Join us, won’t you?
Festivities begin early, so set those alarms to 10 or 10:30 a.m. (EST) at the latest. A first-come, first-served, all-you-can-eat, some-you-can-barf herring and butterflied butterflies buffet will be served at the Algonquin at 11.55. Visitors will then be encouraged to walk through the lobby for light French terrier taunting and then to Central Park for pigeon slaughter. Park officials remind festival-goers to crap wherever they like. Spraying is tolerated, but, please, don’t abuse this privilege. (You may be required to show non-neutering documentation.)
Kiosks serve both high (cat) and low (everybody else) tastes, with candied apples, hot dogs, drained splash pools, and free paw readings for Pisces and Leos. Larry “Freaky Foooood Duuuude” Watkins will be back again this year with his van full of cat collectibles. You know Larry. You can find him at the yellow microbus with the “If this van’s a-rocking, I’m a-whackin’ a mouse in here!” decal. New slogans this year: “Beam me up, Morris …,” “My other car is a sofa,” “Mean People Suck (at the puncture wounds I give to them),” and our purrent, er, current fave: “If you don’t like my driving, stop waking me up. MOTHERFUCKER!”
Deboned chicken and crunchy squirrel buffet begins at 1:00, taking us to 5:30 and the cheese and salmon trays. At 6:15, Chelsea Clinton, accompanied by former President Bill Clinton on saxophone and former Secretary of State Hillary Clinton on bongos, will recite her beat poem, “Socks Lives!” Readings from “Jellicle Cats” follow.
The main concert begins at 7:00 as special guest Phish takes the stage. (Phish reminds attendees that Phish musicians are not, I repeat, NOT fish. Do not try to eat Phish. Fish, okay, but, again, not Phish. Phish does say, though, it is okay to chew on their hair, swat suddenly at roadies’ faces, or pee on the big Persian carpet onstage.)
Do remember, folks, National Cat Day is not all cream and catnip. Please stop by our “Take Back the Couch” and Motoring After Dumbass Dogs (MADD) tables. As always, the National Cat Association (NCA) reminds you, “If mice were illegal, only cats would eat mice.” Shred those tee shirts with pride. Also, new festival co-sponsor, the Christian Cat Fellowship, celebrates its ninth year/lives with their new “In the event of Whiskas®, this vehicle will be vacated” campaign. (All CCF tee shirt monies go toward euthanization of non-cat-believer dogs.)
After the show, feel free to stretch out and sleep absolutely anywhere. That said, if you really want to go home, but if you’ve indulged a bit too much – and who could blame you? – and you need travel assistance, just look for the yellow and black “Pussy On Board!” signs for our shuttle departure zones.
Some of Larry’s latest collectibles, those cute little trick hairballs?, perhaps best sum up the day. When you throw the seemingly realistic wads of gelatinous fur into the toilet, they explode with a billowing cloud of authentic cat spray, as dissolvable micro-speakers roar, “We’re Havin’ a Grrrr-reat National Cat Day!”
See you there!