Greg, being the pimp daddy master of boardwalk/arcade claw games, won me a little stuffed Rottweiler puppy several years ago. Caesar sits on my dash, reminding me that one day we'll have a couple of real ones. I also like to think that if anyone tried to fuck with my car, he'd preternaturally spring to life and bark his head off, scaring the shit out of the would-be villain ("Holy crap, man, that stuffed animal just fucking growled at us! WTF?!" Hahahaha!), and every so often I pet his little doggie head and check in to make sure he's doing okay.
And aside from the psychotic highly imaginative inner life I enjoy that leads me to pet all manner of inanimate things, I really do love the way they feel. Omg, pillows are my undoing. Get me in a Bed Bath & Beyond or something, and I'm sure to wander off and find myself touching them. The really soft ones feel great on your face :) I usually just ignore the jealous alarmed curious looks of nearby shoppers and enjoy my own personal fabric orgy until my husband, realizing I've vanished, comes to find me. Damn him, he always knows where to look.
And aside from the psychotic highly imaginative inner life I enjoy that leads me to pet all manner of inanimate things, I really do love the way they feel. Omg, pillows are my undoing. Get me in a Bed Bath & Beyond or something, and I'm sure to wander off and find myself touching them. The really soft ones feel great on your face :)
I usually just ignore the jealous alarmed curious looks of nearby shoppers and enjoy my own personal fabric orgy until my husband, realizing I've vanished, comes to find me. Damn him, he always knows where to look.
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