If he'd mentioned echidnas and mole rats? I suspect you'd reevaluate that whole straight thing you have going on.
Y'know, I love echidnas, but I don' t
love
echidnas, if'n you know what I mean. I'm pretty confident that if I can maintain that distinction with the very source, I can do so with a bewhiskered rabbi.
Even if he's cuddly?
As long as he's missing all those innie and outie bits that I like, yes.
You know, he once told me he doesn't
love
penguins either.
Methinks the Aussie doth protest too much.
Methinks the Aussie doth protest too much.
I went to a speed dating event (women, and drugs! Two of my favourite pastimes!) and told fully half of them when asked about my hobbies that I really love animals. If it gets cold enough. (And yet none of them wanted to see me again! Next time I'm leaving my lucky axe at home.)
The only time I feel the need to make these distinctions is when someone else brings it up. Though, granted, I have petted a penguin since leaving Philly, which is further than I've got with any humans over that time.
It was only over the sweater fur petting. That's more saying hello than beastiality.
And now that I have assured my spot in the special hell, I should start thinking umfriendly thoughts about actually sleeping.
It was only over the sweater fur petting. That's more saying hello than beastiality.
As a general rule, I find "Is this closer to saying hello than bestiality" is a reasonable guide to personal behaviour.
(PS: Feathers, not fur.)
(PS: Feathers, not fur.)
t hangs head in shame
I knew that. Soft little birdies. With feathers. It really is time for bed obviously.
I knew that. Soft little birdies. With feathers. It really is time for bed obviously.
t Super Porny Pants swoops into thread. She knows a damn pervert when she sees one.