(no subject)

Sascha Chronicles

We join our little hirsute quadrupedal hero at his human slave’s dryer. His slave is pulling clothes from the dryer and folding them. The dryer is a magical place. It is like a womb, warm, and full of fresh soft things that smell vaguely like his slave. He seizes this moment and hops into the dryer. His slave is not amused as she loses site of her cat, but sees her clothes shudder as he rummages under sundry apparel. He is happy. It is warm, and he’s having morning fun; something all males long for, though in varied manifestations.

His slave pulls out another pair of slacks from under his precious paws. He is startled. His womb-like cave has been compromised; he must leave with much haste! He darts out of the dryer, waving his battle flag of contempt in the form of his slave’s satin pink bra on his tail. Further insult was levied upon him as he heard his slave cackle in amusement as he bounded around the corner to the living room wearing women’s lingerie.

(no subject)

Hooray, I'm nearly done with work. Another interesting day had at the office. I'm having some interesting discourse with my director and coworkers. Not interesting to the masses, mind you, but interesting with respect to work here.