Riot dear, how are you? Had any good sh!its in the woods lately? Is it moulting season yet? Must be warm in that bear fur...
Oh Ed! You really do care. *wipes a tear from her eye*
How kind of you to inquire after the primary functions of my bowels...we are all very happy together thank you. Fiber-rich and very comfortable. I know poison ivy when I see it, and have no desire to use it in place of two-ply tp. (The same goes for Aussie things: where the money falls apart in your hands and you can't tear the toilet paper...)
Moulting season? I believe birds molt and mammals shed. So I'm going to go with: how the bloody hell should I know?
That's a safe answer. Besides, hibernating is so much more important.
As for luscious furs, I must say, they are cozy. If you have a bearskin rug, a roaring fireplace, and an attractive hot-blooded beau, it gets more than a little warm in the bear fur...
MAF: I'm renowned for my figurative nature of my speech. Or is it the literal nature of my figurative speech? Or is this a literal speech about figurative renown...???? Sometimes I get so confused.
Anyway...we are having no grand and glorious adventures as of now. We are burning off calories just by lazing about, and all that energy is making us hot hot hot... Or so I was told in bio. I think. I might have been sleeping.
Any ideas would be welcome, though I've been spouting all sorts of disturbing things since we started that serious RP in Pony. Bad poetry for instance, but please excuse the bad rhyme scheme...I wrote it in ten minutes and it shows.
I have knowledge that I must share with all,
And the proper drink has given me the gall.
The origin of “Elfstone” can only appall
Flatly said, Aragorn has but one ball!
The poor chap was born with none,
But was still called “my dear son”
Please excuse the silly pun,
But something really had to be done!
The dwarves tried to give him a pair,
But theirs he would not deign to wear,
If they were light he would not care,
But these were far too heavy there!
So came the elves with magics abound,
And forged him something light and round,
Each Silmaril, only half a pound!
When clanged together, what a sound!
The noise made Arwen Equine quite sour,
And she hid one in a secret bower.
Great was Elfstone’s rage and power,
And he locked fat Arwen in yonder tower…
...I think this is a far better place for it. Don't know if that's a good thing...