BREAKING NEWS: I’m not a big animal person (don’t hate me)

All the animal lovers either skipped this post or are wanting to pelt me with large, Biblical-status stones right now. LET ME EXPLAIN.

I know most people are very passionate about animals and their pets and that’s totally awesome. I’m passionate about things that animal people are probably all, ‘eww’ about (like philly cheese steak) and that’s OKAY! That sort of diversity is what makes the world go ’round! Or something.

The important thing to know is that I don’t actually hate animals. I think they’re cute and somewhat lovable as long as they don’t stick their butt in my face and pee on me.

And that brings me to a story that will explain my issues. Let me take you back…

I’m 10 years old. My mom takes my brother and I to the zoo. I eat pink popcorn and learn important facts about monkeys and anteaters. We walk over to the lion exhibit and the sucker SMELLS. Naturally, I grab my neck with both hands and pretend I’m choking to death. Then I start laughing and yelling, “P-UUUUU!!!” (Theatrics, it’s how I roll.) All of a sudden, the lion stands up and starts walking away, and I felt kind of guilty for hurting his feelings. Just after I shut my mouth, the lion stops. The lion backs up to the fence. THE LION SHOOTS A STEADY AND EXTREMELY WARM STREAM OF PEE ONTO ME.

And I cry.

Ever since that day at the zoo, I’ve felt that there’s been a huge animal conspiracy against me. Every time I go to a friend or family member’s house, their pets just skip merrily past all the animal people and choose ME as their target to rub their butts on.

I just know that jerky lion has something to do with it.