Eat Mor Pussy

Once upon a time I had an idea born of way too much free time and copious amounts of something or other. It was likely the fault of Chick fil-A slogan that I grew to love when I lived in Virginia: "Eat Mor Chikin". How could you not love those damn cows? When Chick-fil-A finally made its way out west I realized that even without a bun their charbroiled chicken bacon cheesy goodness of a sandwich was AWESOME. Add Sam friendly (gluten-free) fries and a gallon of sweet tea and I'll spread my er...you know what I mean. Yummy shit that there Chick-fil-A. Now, everything was fine and dandy until I thunk up an idea that involved Dude the cat. You see, Dude walks around with his tail straight the fuck up like a flag pole all day long. It cracks me up (yes, I am easily amused) because you can see him coming around the couch just by the tip of his tail poking up on the other side.

One day I decided that such a magnificent flag pole tail needed a flag. It stands to reason that the flag needed to celebrate the goodness of Chick-fil-A and the badness that is my brain. I purchased some felt and puffy sticker letters and BAM! a flag fit for a Dude. I call it "Eat Mor Pussy" because who can't get behind a slogan like that?

Please excuse what I would love to call a "baby bump" but what is more aptly referred to as a big ole belly full of baby. Also, the chair pictured is Dude's chair complete with his special towel to keep his furs off my dining set. I do not have purple chairs, people. And, do not pay any attention to the fact that Dude is eyeballing the backyard with a "fucking help me please" tone to his body language. He loves the flag. See?

You might also note that I appear to have a smaller belly button above my regular old belly button. (If you click on the picture it will get bigger.) I had my navel piercing removed a few weeks back to avoid a stretched-out, stupid looking hole. Too bad I can't avoid that fate all around, huh?