When putting away the cat food, the bag will get rubbed against, Poodle will be on hand to while purring loudly, mark each can as her “Property” as I put them away. Roy will do this to a much lesser extent, but Poody is in charge of making sure they are inventoried properly. She will often seek out the specific bag of groceries that contains “HMC” or Her Majesty’s Cans, and try to get into the bag with them. She is a large animal, so it looks as ridiculous as one might imagine.
No one buys a children’s book from a biker, when there’s one at the library for free! Ridiculous plot contrivances aside, I’m taking a break until this story is finished.
If they love Putin so much, why don’t they just move to Russia? I’m certain they’ll be much “happier” there. And Russia, with it’s plummeting birth rates, could use some “poisoned blood” to shore up it’s population of rapidly diminishing useful idiot stocks.
Just a silly fad like all that came before, its time has passed, and one day soon, a new idiotic thing will be discovered, have its time, and its time shall pass as well.
This is what happens when you make yourself commander with having earned it in the first place!