Quote:
Originally Posted by montsnmags
Maggie will walk up, push her head into your chest when you sit or bend down, and then swing it up to crack her ramming crest across your face somewhere (generally that right spot on your nose to make your eyes water). She goes through, not around things, and your guilt is aroused by your pain, letting you know you should have read her wants before her "affection" became necessary.
Oscar is a canine guilt-machine personified. His affectionate and humble adorableness - an aging infirmness combined with an obliviously playful puppiness - makes one feel permanently the need to find him satisfaction for whatever he wants or whatever he might want.
Adrian just makes one feel fear, caution, and slightly knurd all the time. His interminable and infernal interfenestrations (of himself, yourself, or things that don't bare thinking about), have one crouch down in a shaking fear when trying to pass any fenestre, unless one maintains a state induced by constant consumption of ZCD's. But, wait! Look over your shoulder! There he is, attached backpack-like to you, grinning like an insane, invisible gibbon (exactly like an insane, invisible gibbon). Adrian...ready to drag you kicking and screaming and sipping at a zorange colored drink in a schooner glass with a twisty straw and little umbrella in it, down the llama-hole...
But I digress...what were we talking about? [sips drink] AAAGGHHH! GIRAFFES!
Cheers,
Marc, your barman (Can I get you a drink?)
|
you asked me next week if I wanted a zcd refill and I've been waiting since yesterday. *sheesh*
Strider is going to waylay you with his patented stolen kitty guilt look, that he has refined with the paws around the legs, thusly;