Hanging out on the back porch eating lunch with a mishcat while she rolls around on the concrete like a fat beige whore, finish up, do my usual call whistle and she obediently trots back inside.
promptly hear from over the fence “Bloody hell, how did you manage that??” And apparently we was watched.
Hanging out on the back porch eating lunch with a mishcat while she rolls around on the concrete like a fat beige whore, finish up, do my usual call whistle and she obediently trots back inside.
promptly hear from over the fence “Bloody hell, how did you manage that??” And apparently we was watched.
“while she rolls around on the concrete like a fat beige whore” is the funniest and most evocative thing I will read this week.
Like this, but more motion: