I don't care what you say -- Shark Week
I like the characters.
I'd like to see that Great White catch a laser pointer dot!
I think those two hammerheads are in love...
It'd just flop around on the carpet until it died
: Ohhh...Then we'd have like two tons of huge, rotten, stinking fish corpse in the living room...We'd eat like kings!
RILEY: You'd better not hog more than one ton.
Holy shit, that was funny. "It'd just flop around on the carpet until it died."
I'm gonna be laughing over that next week, which is good, because next week looks like a bitch from here. Still, they can kill you but they can't eat you. Unless "they" are cats, of course, which I suppose I wouldn't mind.
Prove you're human word: caragin, which certainly sounds sharky.
Way I heard it, kittehs will not eat stuff that's past its sell-by. I know ours won't. That thing they do with aiming their whiskers forward over a potential meal apparently helps them gauge its freshness, and they can distinguish between freshly killed, a half-hour old, an hour old, etc...
What? Did I kill the joke?
Akchully, Scott, it was the photo and the very first 2 lines that got me. Character nutshell! And I must also compliment you on "posse of personal pookas" from yesterdays. That's poesy, that is.
I have to bring some kitty photos back soon. I/We now have four cats and two dogs to bring on da funk, da hilarity, every day, so I'm sure photo ops are to be had.
Excellent. I'd love to see those.
Those faces, those eyes... they were born stars, those two. Were I not currently hobbled with the curse known as a "google browser," constantly inflating/shrinking the frame/fonts/everyfuckingthing, I might've come up with something wry for your feline overlords... they certainly deserve that and so much more.
One day, I'd dearly love to introduce, even over the world's weirdest Skype convergence, my backyard Big Yellow Bob and James Dammit Henry to Moondoggie & Riley, respectively. Hell, any way that it'd be possible would thrill me to no end. It's not just teh superficial similarities, it's that they're so much ALIKE, at least I think so... damned uncanny. Bob can do more tricks than your average canine, when there's something in it for him. And James & Riley share a disturbingly-prescient consciousness that fair GLEAMS from those shining eyes.
GOOGLE IS STILL FUCKING WITH ME AT EVERY PAUSE & CONJUNCTION, so I'll shut the fuck up and just remind y'all of how much I admire your Feline Overlords, now and forever.
I wish I could get my two younger squeakers to assume such photogenic poses. They're big buddies, while the other two (the indoor/outdoor Maine Coon cat and the diminutive elderly tortie -- and boy, do I understand now what they mean by "tortitude") are both loners.
But as for the Bombay and the tabby, either they're taking turns chasing each other or they're crashed out on the waterbed. (Why, yes, I'm stuck in the early 70s. What makes you ask?)
So any photos would be of furry blurs or komatose kittehs. Not very interesting.
Then again, it's probably a blessing in disguise, because even if they cooperated with the cute pics I doubt if I could come up anything half as hilarious as these continuing adventures of Riley and Moondoggie.
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