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Tassled...loafers?
The Unbearable Lightness of Loafers, eh Tink?
Your next post better be about you knifing a wild boar to death with the scissors from a Swiss Army Knife, buster.
Ahh, Bane, Bane.
What you don't know is that inside those innocent looking J&M's, I keep a goodly-sized Arkansas Toothpick. Useful for disemboweling people who question my, ermm...credentials.
"Cat-Whore"? What an expression! No, I think it's genuine -- Matata loves you.
And ... what is it with kitties and feet? Her Ladyship likes to roll around on my feet, too, when she's in the mood. I don't mind it, but I also don't get it.
Cats do enjoy playing with feet...my first cat, Rudy, likes to be stepped on and often throws himself in front of me as I walk. Seriously. He's not happy until I've squished him with my foot. Smoke, on the other hand, disdains such activities. When *he* wants attention he much prefers to stand on his hind legs and wave his front paws over his head.
I hear some cats are dignified, though...
And exactly how long did you resist before you reached down and chuckled that little fuzzy belly? Hmmm?
Loafers, indeed.
Loafer lover! A toothpick such as you describe would be hard pressed to fit into a proper, manly boot.
Now, flit your tiny wings over there to the fridge and get me a beer...
Get yer own fuckin' beer. I have boots, too, and I might need to plant one up your ass...plus, I don't keep that Zima shit you like in the fridge. Heh.
Man, I bought a six pack of Zima when it first came out, and I actually liked the taste. Of all six. I asked the wife if I looked drunk (why, yes, I did chug them, thank you...it was hot, and I was thirsty) and she looked surprised, and said no. I kept waiting for a buzz to hit. Never happened. Gayest crap, ever.
Now, go put your boots on...there they are, floating up there against the ceiling of your closet...
Not only does Elisson, his own self, have Boots...but he has Naconas given to him by Billy Bob...with honest to God riding heels. Could kill a cockroach in any corner. Hah!
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