Before you read any further, you must know that the cat dies at the end of this post. And it doesn't die due to old age. It dies, unfortunately, because some dude on Reddit masturbated so much that his cat had to be put down. What's the connection, you ask? Well, it's more clear when you realize the redditors username is "cumoncarpet."
The story, which was reposted on Uproxx with some minor spelling and grammar edits to make it more readable, starts out the way any teenage masturbation story starts. Boy meets dick, boy realizes dick can do things, boy touches dick to the exclusion of all other things. It's something that many of us know all too well because it's also something that many of us (::raises hand::) have lived.
Back when I was 14, I was masturbating like no tomorrow. Once or twice a day for about two years, I would beat the meat in my bedroom and then proceed to ejaculate all over my carpet. I was a lazy kid and didn't keep a box of tissues in my room. I also liked to see how far I could shoot my cum, so being the sensible kid I was, I decided just spewing my load on our carpet was the best option. Let me point out that although we had carpet, it wouldn't become crusty or white or anything like that, so I wasn't worried about my parents seeing.
Ok, but why the carpet? Like didn't you have any t-shirts, kid? Or a pair of underwear? Even your bedspread would be better (and feel more like a hotel) than the carpet. At least you can wash a bedspread without having a dude with a hose come into yourhouse and charge you $200 to tell you everything you've ever done wrong to your carpet. Like dude, I am already paying you, don't lecture me about pizza sauce.
Ok, back to the masturbation: Here's where the story takes a strange twist and if you're sensitive I suggest you get your tissues out now. (It's ironic that I'm suggesting that for you, because if "cumoncarpet" had had tissues, none of this would have ever happened.) Here we go. Ready?
When I was 14 we also had a cat who was 18 at the time and having some issues controlling his bladder. After two bouts of him pissing on our floor, my parents decided to find out where he was pissing, so they researched how to find out if your carpet has cat piss on it. They found out that under black light, cat pee glows in the dark. They ordered a black light off of the internet and then decided to scan all of our carpet right after the got the black light while I was at sleep away camp.
When I got back a week later my dad seemed off. Apparently, while I was gone, they found out that the cat had peed all over my room and decided it would be best for them to put him down while I was gone, to spare me the trauma of having to say goodbye when I came back, and also to put him out of his suffering. I was sad at first, but then I thought that was a little strange since my beloved cat didn't hang out in my room very much because it was in the basement and quite cold.
Wanting to see how bad it was, I waited until my parents went to sleep and went downstairs with the black light to check it out. My carpet had around 50 or so splotches of glowing stains on it and then it hit me. Those stains were my jizz. My parents must've thought it was cat pee and put the cat down before I could explain what it was. I was overwhelmed with guilt and sadness, but eventually when I was older, realized it wasn't entirely my fault. To this day I have told no one, so this feels real good to get off of my chest.
There are so many levels of cringe-worthy awful here that I don't even know where to start. Is it with the fact that this dude came on the carpet so fucking much that his parents killed the cat over it, or the fact that they didn't even bother to wait for him to come home so he could say goodbye and possible confess about the whole thing? I don't know about you, but I'd like to think that if I came on the carpet so many times that it looked like someone had created a Jackson Pollock painting up in there, I would have told my parents about it as soon as I learned about their plans for the cat. They wouldn't have been happy about it, but the cat would still be alive. (This was never a problem for me because I am a normal human being who did not come on the carpet. Tissues are not the only answer, cumoncarpet. Have you even heard of socks? Do you even sock, bro?)
It's awesome that cumoncarpet (drink every time you read his username) was able to get his feelings off his chest, but it's hard to agree that this isn't entirely his fault. 50 splotches? Yeah, your jerking really did kill the cat. Tell your kids as a cautionary tale.
Image via KnowYourMeme