(no subject)
Now that he's got Claudia's radio show playing while he does up breakfast, Priestly shakes his ass a little more while he cooks. Not that he hasn't been ass shaking all over the place these days--in the kitchen, in the clinic, in the Catscratch, hell, even in the rec room. Ass-shaking is probably good for the soul or something. He's almost certain it's good for the glutes. And it helps when he's mixing batch after batch after batch after batch of pancakes.
Banana pancakes and blueberry pancakes and strawberry pancakes and applesauce pancakes. But not chocolate pancakes. Sure, they're delicious, but they're not really a breakfast food in any kind of meaningful way.
He can probably be coerced, though, if the proper pressure is applied.
When she plays NOFX, he pretends it's just for him. So enthusiastically, in fact, that he manages to knock the mixing bowl on the floor, scattering batter all over his calves and shoes and anything else that stands in its way.
"Oh shit," he says. "Nobody saw that!"
[ come gather to enjoy the pancakes, or stop and laugh at him if that's more likely to feed your appetite ]
Banana pancakes and blueberry pancakes and strawberry pancakes and applesauce pancakes. But not chocolate pancakes. Sure, they're delicious, but they're not really a breakfast food in any kind of meaningful way.
He can probably be coerced, though, if the proper pressure is applied.
When she plays NOFX, he pretends it's just for him. So enthusiastically, in fact, that he manages to knock the mixing bowl on the floor, scattering batter all over his calves and shoes and anything else that stands in its way.
"Oh shit," he says. "Nobody saw that!"
[ come gather to enjoy the pancakes, or stop and laugh at him if that's more likely to feed your appetite ]