Alright guys, we’re back with yet another edition of Joey Boats’ Belated Film Reviews, formally known as Joey Bags’ Belated Film Reviews. A lot of people have asked me why I changed my alias when I auditioned for Barstool Idol and it’s actually a hilarious story: One day, I wore a boat shirt to a party and my buddy walked into the room and went, “Ayyy Joey Boats!” HAHA!
Before we go any further, I just wanted to utilize the start of this blog to discuss how nice of a person I am. I’m not someone who brags about how nice I am. I do nice things because I feel the Earth will reciprocate in some capacity in the near future.
So far it hasn’t, but anyway, I went for a run this morning around 5 AM because I’m a world class athlete and noticed a sign for a “Missing Cat.” Suddenly, something fluttered across my right peripheral. Upon further examination, it was—you fucking guessed it—a falling leaf.
I kept running, hoping to perhaps find the poor cat and return it to the owner for a bounty of riches. A couple minutes go by and YES, I see the cat! Or, at least, I saw a cat that looked similar to the one on the flyer…
Immediately, I make a mad dash back to the flyer to acquire the contact information. First, I leave a voicemail; second, I text the woman. No dice…
I keep running and the woman eventually texts me back with a picture of a similar cat that others have contacted her about. She informed me her cat looks similar to the one in the photo; however, it is not the same cat, which begs the question, “Whose fucking cat was this?”
A couple minutes go by and I continue stalking this potential “missing cat” for a better look. After considerable examination, I realize the cat I was stalking did NOT look like the fake missing cat, and in turn, looked EXACTLY like the “missing cat.”
I then re-texted the woman to inform her of my findings. She was STOKED I potentially found her “baby.” For the record, she referred to this missing cat as her “baby” a disturbing amount of times. Like, she did it enough that I was beginning to worry that I wasn’t communicating with a woman at all, rather, a super intelligent cat that had developed the ability to converse via text, as well as afford a monthly Sprint cellular plan.
I got nervous. My mind raced even faster than I was already jogging, which was already pretty fast considering I’m a world class athlete (see paragraph 3). I was sprinting through a laundry list of possibilities.
Perhaps this super intelligent cat who managed to trick Sprint into providing it a monthly cellular plan was now tricking me? Perhaps I was the first victim? Perhaps I was simply a puppet in a scheme plagued with lies? Perhaps following this cat would lead me to a trap where I’m mauled by a couple cats behind some family’s deck, only to be ripped apart and consumed for sustenance?
Listen, if there’s one thing people know about me, it’s that I’m not stupid; and certainly, I’m smarter than some super intelligent cat who’s managed to ascertain a monthly cellular subscription in order to lure unassuming humans into a fatal trap.
I resolve that, no, I won’t be fooled. Instead of answering the next couple phone calls, I threw my phone on airplane mode and continued my run. I won’t be a victim, I won’t be a statistic.
As I reached my house, I once again encountered the cat. He/she/it (I don’t assume gender during the 13th paragraph of blogs concerning sophisticated feline schemes) looked at me with a wry smile—as most super intelligent cat murder accomplices do—and carried along.
I outsmarted her and she knew it. Chalk this one up for the humans. Not yet, super intelligent cats…
Anyway, I was going to write a full fledged review of Avengers: Infinite War because I finally got around to watching it last night. Turns out, life sometimes throws you a curveball. I’m sure I’ll get around to it at a later date, or maybe not. Who knows?
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