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I have an 8am start tommorrow, yet here I am. Fuck you, work.
Having a sweet little runt of a Staffy jump up onto the arm of your chair and snuggle up in your lap is one thing.
Having a 30kg gassy bull terrier plonk her oversized mass across you is quite another.
Also, I seem to be having trouble staying verticle. This wouldn't pose a problem were I a rent-a-vag, but for a woman of virtue such as myself it only serves as a reminder of why I shouldn't wear high heels ._. (A point which was accentuated when I had to peel my blood-encrusted tights off my poor scabby knee and ankles.)
Having a 30kg gassy bull terrier plonk her oversized mass across you is quite another.
Also, I seem to be having trouble staying verticle. This wouldn't pose a problem were I a rent-a-vag, but for a woman of virtue such as myself it only serves as a reminder of why I shouldn't wear high heels ._. (A point which was accentuated when I had to peel my blood-encrusted tights off my poor scabby knee and ankles.)