When my cat, Madame George, snuggles up next to me and turns her asshole to my face I think she is trying to say, “Hey thanks for all that cat food and emptying the litter.”
When I turn her back around I think I am saying “Get your fucking asshole out of my face and face the other way around.”
She turns back, tries to offer her asshole again, “Really I insist, thanks for all that cat food and changing the litter.”
I turn her around again, “No no. Stay the other way!”
Neither side wins. It continues until the end of time then into a space let us call “no time” – all possibilities are squished, pancaked. Indiscriminate body parts collide, yes, the cat gets her way in theory though who can measure for how long exactly in this new reality unfortunately permeated with The 5th dimension singing “when the moon is in the 7th house..” unending like Muzac in an elevator. So this is eternity I think to myself and finally find meaning in death. Thanks Madame George.