Peteroo's Blog

Snicker-snicker or achoo-achoo? Lions both laugh at and sneeze due to you.

Feel not broigus as an object of their chortle-sniffs; forsooth, even without your presence, their paws would hide surreptitious whiffs.

Years erstwhile had some of these cats leaving keepers paranoid and amiss. Their mental instauration cost them thousands for just an ounce of normal bliss.

Tee-hee tee-hee or itchy-itchy? Whichever one—it is a *lion*, so do not remedy with a behind-the-ear scritchy. ; )

Tulip white as cream whipped—topping tulips yellow as lemon custard, a green thumb’s hand held both pail and assiduity to help you turn such vivid hues, so let us refrain from solecisms that would have one tasting your petals instead of the ruly preference of in-taking their scents of pleasance with a slight breath of anacrusis before the full imbibition of floral flavour. : )

Traipsing through a snowy day, eyes espy a bench with which body desires to spend some time.

Cocooned in coat, here is an ideal spot for people-watching, though snow *on* bench presents a purpose for mittened hand-broom.

Now, thoughts worry instead. What if the sidewalk’s width precludes no debris from wheelspin landing in the lap?

Mind forces positive thoughts: hope exists for a friendly meanderer to seek company in freshly-brushed proximity so that personalia can be exchanged.

Fireplace whence these boots departed remains unlit due to damp daddock, but there are views from pews for twos which provide starts to sparks even more warmthful than that which might be expected. ; )

Doggone it! Woof is wrong with you? I very clearly barked at you to *not* look the gift horse in the mouth because it is prone to being startlish and, now, you have broken bones that are no use to me because they cannot be buried—yet. If you were expecting some aperçu in horsey’s muzzle, I can assure you that the only news below the nose is that mares eat oats, but never at night. For both protection and pleonasm, I have taped equine’s lips sealed shut, so do not expect an apology for suffering; just be thankful Mr. Ed was not wearing any shoes. And, as well, set aside any thoughts of revenge. You can look into those blues—and forget about types of glues. You brought me a note from a doctor? Why? All I see is chicken scratch. It says I am supposed to give you a paw-massage three times daily? Hmmm. Well, as I unfetter my hay-mate, my response to your relay is quite succinct: “Quack.” ; )

Would I like to leave my sunset swing to build peat-people in the ombrogenous earth of the park’s place for ducks? Well, shucks. The answer to your query, you silly loon, is that since I am, indeed, *not* credulous, “No, thank you. I reject your assumption of expectation of cullibility and offer to you, in return, a declaration of no susceptibility to absurdity.” ; )