Ducks hear both steps pause and paper bag ruffle. While they, as adherents to monolatrism, will side-waddle for most bipedals higher than their crest, they only quack praises for the one flipping crumbs from the loaf held against their chest.
Programmer thought he had all his ducks in a row, but it turns out they just jumped screen, quacking toodles to machinima’s plot in favor of ankles’ socks.
Calling me callow is truly quite shallow—for though I laze on the floor and scribble sky with my toes and still bill my Howard hose to foes while picking my nose, I also take to sharing kindness like a duck to water does.
Mr. Bean’s duck boots are really just gemmed-up golashes for puddle-jumping hijinks, but ducks’ person boots foster flumping through precipi-pools with extra-high kicks. : )