Two of my favorite things in life are biscuits and cats. I am now going to attempt to make the two somehow relate to each other. Now, don’t stop reading here. Give me a chance.

We’ll start with the first. Biscuits, are, if anything, delicious and satisfying. A formidable breakfast item, biscuits are usually glazed with butter and a jam of some sorts (for the committed readers, I go with strawberry jam.) They are a tantalizing treat that goes great with sausage and/or bacon in the morning.

Let’s look back on some of the more famous biscuits in history. First there was the little known Great Biscuit War of 1789, which occurred in Norfolk, VA. Or maybe it was Roanoke. Anyway, a man named Ian McGruffles of Scotland had just arrived in America and was living with a local family.

One morning at breakfast, McGruffles encountered a strange object in front of him. Having never seen a biscuit before, McGruffles started becoming very angry and violent. Soon the whole state was divided over whether bread should be baked in the morning and served with topping. You’ve probably never heard of it because it happened right after America earned her independence, and John Adams didn’t need another food war on his hands (see The Fruit Gushers War.)

Another famous biscuit is the honey butter chicken biscuit from Whataburger. Just thinking about it makes my mouth water. If you’ve never had one, go get one. Leave Umph and go get a honey butter chicken biscuit.

This weekend at 10 p.m. or so, me and my friend Charlton were both craving a honey butter chicken biscuit before we stopped at a party just so we could be seen then be too cool and leave. As we pulled through the drive-thru, and were asked what we wanted, we both loudly screamed “Honey Butter Chicken Biscuitzzzz!”

What we heard next from the woman taking our order was not expected nor will I ever forget it.

“Um…ok….We serve breakfast from 11 p.m. to 11 a.m. Right now? It’s 10:04 at night, which means, you don’t get breakfast. For future reference, don’t do this. Do not order breakfast when we aren’t serving it. Don’t do it. Now how many do you want?”

Now, the second thing I like are cats. I’m actually allergic to cats but I feel their attitude is something I could live with. I mean, I’m pretty sassy. Some might even call me a sassy fat cat, and if they did, I would punch them.

I think the idea of meowing is funny to me. I giggle when someone says it. Look around, if people are around, say out loud “Meow!”. No, not like that. Put effort into it. There ya go! Now check; is anyone laughing?

They probably aren’t laughing because you didn’t put enough energy into it. Where did you learn to act? Julliard? Puh-lease. You aren’t ready for Meadows.

Since you need to sell your first born to SMU to live on campus, I’ve made the decision to move off campus. I want a cat so bad. I’ve already decided to call him David Gumdrops Price. Why should a cat have to suffer with a stupid name like Snuggles or Meowzilla or Mr. Bojangles. Give him a proper name.

Now, how do these two topics connect?

One time when I was seven or so I was over at a friend’s house and we had just woken up and were watching Saturday morning cartoons. His mom had made us some breakfast and we were sitting on the floor of his room. Suddenly the cat crept in and inched toward my biscuit.

I let him eat it. It tasted terrible anyway. But it was the most strangest thing ever. The cat actually sliced the biscuit open right down the middle with its claws then proceeded to use the knife to spread jam all over the biscuit and ate the whole thing right then and there. Then he poured himself a glass of orange juice and drank it and talked to us a bit about business ethics.

I’m just kidding. He didn’t eat the whole biscuit. That would be crazy.

John Paul Green is a freshman theater major. He can be reached for comment at [email protected].