I don’t have a real post today, so I’ve compiled a few choice things I’ve said out loud in the past week or two to various furry fools in my life.
That sock isn’t yours. Stop eating the innards. Minerva, whenever she can get a sock out of the laundry before I put them away.
LET GO OF THAT BRA RIGHT NOW YOU FLUFFY LITTLE DEVIANT. Again…Minerva.
Jesus, how much catnip is in those mice…you’re a creepy menace when you’re high. fAngus, who received a package of 12 stuffed mice for Christmas…from people who didn’t realize they were dealing drugs to my cat.
Stop eating the catnip mice, those are for the CAT. You are a DOG. Dogs don’t get high. Seems self-explanatory.
Stop eating Ragnar’s poop. You are so lucky you’re cute. Sigh. Fucking Minerva. WHYYYYY.
Yes, these dried penises are for you. You’re gross. I don’t really want to give an explanation here, but I suppose in the interest of not getting on yet another watchlist…dogs like bully sticks. I’m grossed out, but I get writing done while they’re busy chewing dried up bull dick, so I guess it’s a win/win?
If you chew that vacuum cord again, fAngus, I’m making you into a fucking pillow. fAngus is an asshole. Cord belonged to his mortal enemy…I haven’t tested to see if he successfully killed it yet.
STOP TRYING TO LICK MY EYEBALL! WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU? Guest appearance from my dad’s dog, Hella (pronounced Hey-La). She’s a four pound teacup poodle whose hair is bigger than her brain, and for some reason she’s always trying to eat her way inside my face.