by Sparticus Maximus the Great
No doubt Sydney’s real cute and has all the right moves, but can Chris’ boston terrier contribute The Sunday Snog?
I thought not!
Frankly, I don’t know if bird-kisses count as kisses. If experience with my bird (aptly named Bert) is any indication, your lot is really just all about biting. For the last time, my finger is not a worm, got it?
Birds nuzzle each other’s beaks in a manner quite similar to kissing and it likely serves similar biological purposes… more on that coming in chapter 3 of the kissing book
Why are you calling yourself Sparticus Maximus the Great?!
Bird is back! I was wondering if the parrot was still around.
Bird is back!
Back and badder than ever!
Give us a kiss, give us a kiss, achoo! Sorry about the bird flu.
This reminds me of one of the winners of the Bulwer-Litton contest some years back. These awards are given for the most ghastly opening sentences of some imaginary novel. They are given in honor of the man who wrote the memorable opening sentence, “It was a dark and stormy night.”
“”Failure” was simply not a word that would ever cross the lips of Miss Evelyn Duberry, mainly because Evelyn, a haughty socialite with fire-red hair and a coltish gait, could pronounce neither the letters “f” nor “r” as a result of an unfortunate kissing gesture made many years earlier toward her beloved childhood parrot, Snippy. “
Lips still intact
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