Okay, things are getting a little freaky between my cat Frank and I. I let him sleep in the bed because I like him there, not to mention if I didn’t, he’d sleep there anyways.

I’ve been waking up lately in the wee hours of the night to him licking my face. Sometimes I’ll find him licking my shoulder, the tattooed area in particular; perhaps it tastes different. One night it was my left sideburn. The other night he was licking my back. I give him a little “not tonight, dear” shove, and he backs off and pretty much leaves me alone the rest of the night.

But last night he took things just a little too far (no, not what you’re probably thinking, thankfully). I awoke at 3am to a small incredibly abrasive, mushy, clammy paddle sanding away at my lips.

Dude was licking my mouth. And purring.

I sprung up, pushed him aside and had gave him a tongue lashin’ of a different kind, yes I did: “Frank, I love ya little fella, but it’s time to put this aspect of our relationship to some sort of permanent end. Like… now. I told you – I prefers womens, not kitties!” All he could say to me was Maarrrwrrrrrah? Yeah, whatever. Don’t think I can’t understand cat-speak. Maybe it’s time I get him a lady friend. Maybe I need some sort of pheromone masking agent to cover my man musk so it doesn’t make his instincts kick in like this.

It’s not too easy to fall back asleep once you’re violated by your pet in such a manner. I usually only sleep in just a pair ‘o’ jammie bottoms, but this is making me rethink my nighttime attire: Tonight I’m wearing a ski mask, my down filled parka, some really thick pants, and moon boots to bed. And I’ll be packin’ a loaded miniature Super Soaker water pistol which will act as cat-mace if need be. That’s gonna learn him real fast.

Oh, and on a completely unrelated note, let me just state for the records that I’ll never look at Krispy Kremes the same way again. *ahem..*