Never been a big fan of noughts and crosses, or other things to do with requiring opposable thumbs and forefingers. Foreclaws, now they’re a different and far more interesting proposition. Also, the posterior variety. Just ask my younger sibling, Scarface, he’ll tell you all you need to know. Just kiddin’. Really.
Since time immemorial (whatever that means), we have all searched for comfort. The humble couch is the answer, as we all know, or should. So next time you need a break, get the chocolate, the chocolate tuna, and the other tasty TV treats and don’t bench yourself, couch yourself, in glowing terms as well. Enjoy, and you’re welcome.
My only advice is this: don’t invest in standing stones, there’s no future in them, but a hell of a past, that’s for sure. Also, ensure that you contribute to your Super fund however you can. As you age, and even those of us with nine lives, or more, do age, eventually, you will appreciate the windfall that’s coming your way as you slide into decrepitude like most of the standing stones.
In addition, standing stones are fun to read about as they embody the mysteries of human (crazy species) attempts to understand the mysterious, the thin places where dimension collides with dimension. Of course, here on Mars, there are lots of thin places due to the very light gravity compared with Earth (about 38% of the third rock’s). So, if you want to lose weight all of a sudden, come and visit with us anytime (anytime you can hail a passing rocket, that is, ahahahahahah).
I harboured, briefly, ambitions to be a mime, a great mime, like Marcel Marceau, the original and most silent (and possibly, the palest). Alas, I realised that the incredible advantage I possessed in the form of my most expressive, and silent, tail, would render all competition redundant.
And mimes, as you well know, dear, silent readers, are extremely combative types. Nonetheless, in my own quiet way I have continued to practice, and I now dominate the world of meowmes, so the mimes don’t have to worry or even cry out aloud about their misfortune.
Meowmes rule, though, they do.
Too soon to revisit Selfieville and its strange inhabitants wherever they may find themselves? I think not. And the sooner little Brutus realises that, like Hermia in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, he may be little but he’s totes fierce, the sooner he can flee that rather gorgeous flytrap of an island and get his own Dogagram account.
Unless, of course, his human frenemy, Tasty McMeatus is about to become his very closest chum, if you know what I mean.