bird-simulator:

Tom Jones walks into a bar.  As he walks up to the counter, he spots a cat slouching over the counter, a glass of whiskey between his paws.  

“What’s new pussycat?” says Tom.

The cat sighs heavily, downing the remainder of his glass and lifting his head.  His eyes are listless, unfocused. “Nothing, Tom,” he says, staring off into space, “nothing ever changes.”