The Best of Beijing in Readers' Photos: Capital Pets Edition

BauLuo wrote:

So there we was, me, Gig Martini, Mike Serpenta, hanging out havin a few lollys. The sun was shining broadly and consistently. All waiting for Hairy-Anne Rayce to get her ass down here and fix us up. Suddenly, and crashingly comes flyingly down pedestrian walkway none but crazy Tim the man ill favoured in habitation. Now Tim was an hairy man, and I sat him down and asked him should he care for a mess of pottage. Suddenly Hairy-Anne Rayce bounced around the corner, seductively may I add, carrying..... what ? a whole mess of pottage. Indeed, messes of pottage! We all sat there gargling our pottage, slurping our lollys, having a grand old time. Hairy-Anne did a specific act on her own for all of us, and we were all quite jolly.

So there we were, me, crazy Timmy, Mike Serpenta, having a few lollys. Mike was asleep as usual his chin resting downwards in a manner that inflated the already profusesness of his face-cheeks. Rather rubicund, I may add. Timmy was painting his fingernails with mustard he had found dumpster diving. At least it was Dijon. Then, out of the blue, comes Gin Tonic and Hairy-Anne just a waltzing down the street, maskless, like it was 1999. Gin wearing his usual tracksuit, Hairy wearing her usual miniskirt, which she liked to use to her strategic avail, and should you have accute eyesight, might get a glimpse of undergarmentless feline. Now the general protuberance of Gin's gut contrasted sharply with the decided emaciation of Hairy, but if you put them together and divided by two it might be okey. So they both sits down at our sidewalk table. Gin starts talking bout philosophy, Timmy starts painting his fingernails with ketchup (or catsup, if you prefer) Hairy-Anne is rubbing her foot up and down my shin whislt simutanaeaously doing something in Gin's trousers. Her right hand don't know what her left foot is doing!! I think our Lord told us to act this a way.