Who can you trust?

I don't know why but crazy stuff happens to me all the time. Maybe it is my effervescent spirit. Once in 1998 or 1999 when the Buffalo Sabres were in the third round of the playoffs and my sisters and friends and I were at the height of our hockey watching days something crazy happened. We had just finished blessing the arena, which consisted of driving top speed around it while one or two of us poured salt out the windows and threw cloves of garlic. We were on our way to the real business of the night, drive-by-mooning people in South Buffalo-- a poor Irish Catholic neighborhood, our favorite pastime for a few years running. As we turned the corner behind the arena I saw a kitten sleeping in the street. I wasn't what you'd call an animal lover at the time but I felt compelled to save it, as cars were driving right over it. I had my sister stop the car and got out and went over to the cat. Aww look at him i thought, so little and stupid he doesnt even know not to sleep in the street. I'll just go pick him up and put him on the curb where he'll be safe. I had only grazed his fur with my finger tips when the little beast awoke and attacked me. By 'attacked' I do not mean scratched I mean the fucking kitten tryed to devour me, complete with cat shreeking and biting and viscious lascerating clawing. I was stunned, he was afterall so tiny and sweet sleeping there on the cobblestone street, no bigger than the brick he had been laying on. He devistated my hand and ran off bucking like a small furry bronco. I couldn't believe what had just happened. As I started back toward the car I saw something I hadn't seen on my way over. A few inches from where the cat lay napping was the most devoured and ripped apart carcus of a pigeon that I had ever seen. Apparrently the kitten raveged this bird and passed out until I came along and woke him up. I was really bleeding but we had mooning to do so I topped off my attack at the closest mini mart called 'Big Basha' where I bought some 65 year old dry ass baby wipes to clean my gushing wounds. Maybe I should have gone to the hospital, but I don't trust Doctors.