P.E.C. for Short*

We dog-sat over the weekend for Flute Randi, whom I've decided to just call "Flute" from now on because I'm tired of typing her entire name, and really, how many penis-free "Randi"s do you know?

Flute went to New Ulm to get fucking blitzed on good ole' Minnesota beer at the Schellabration, that lucky bitch, and left with us her giant mattress spring wrapped in a buffalo muscle French terrier named Mac. Since I'm busy packing for our move, I thought it would be a good idea to have MORE fur in my house. I'm going to use it first as dog-scented packing material and then weave it into a fine wool and sell it on Craig's List.

Dis dog. He can haz adorablenezz.

Bampa hates having other dogs in the house, especially BOY dogs, and I think it has something to do with the fact that Bamps pisses like a girl, but it may also be because it means he has to share the treats. These two have met before, with mixed results, and I say "mixed" when I mean "hmmm maybe we should clamp Bampa's jaws shut with a rubber band like he's a giant, furry lobster".

Which is what we ended up doing, except with a Gentle Leader instead of a rubber band, but I can assure you if a rubber band of an appropriate size had presented itself, I would have used it instead. If I can put one in my hair, he can have one on his face.

The primary effect of the Gentle Leader was that Bampa spent the next 24 hours rubbing his face on every available surface, which was really very cute (unless it involved Gray's crotch) and which meant he was distracted enough not to notice when Mac moved in on his chick:

You can't see it, but my pretty pink lipstick is riiiiiight down there...

The red shirt in the photo is Kylie, and she's very clearly giving Mac the romantic signals (note the placement of one hand on his broad shoulders and the other in her crotch), and we were not surprised when this exchange resulted in a VERY! ENTHUSIASTIC! LIPSTICK! EMERGENCE! and we spent a short while discussing the implications of such a reaction.

I realized that if my virtuous, motherly touch ever provokes such excitement in Bampa, I will promptly chop off his lipstick with the nearest available weapon and teach him once and for all that incest is the work of the devil.

Or I'll take consecutive showers. I'm still undecided.

I have always been fascinated by the idea of the lipstick, though, and I believe my first eye-witness of the phenomenon was driving by a field in which an incredibly virile horse was grazing. I was very concerned for the health of that poor animal's private parts, which appeared to have been flipped inside out and then blown up like an unformed balloon animal. I was educated in the matter soon after, however, when I had the occasion to help a small Dotson get his rocks off.

Since I'm loathe to do any actual research, I must assume that the lipstick (aka Penile Extension Cord) was invented to accommodate the semi-long-distance mating rituals of the large-boned and multi-ton-weighing animals, and of course this line of reasoning  leads me to suspect that incredibly overweight people may also have a form of penile extension cord, or are in the process of evolving such, at the very least.

Having only reached a moderate level of chunkiness myself, I've decided that the answer to my question lies in only one place: Fattie fetish porn.

Stay tuned.

PS - He weally weally missed his mama. And also, his penis touched the chair, but Gray assured me that since he was "not lippy" at the time, there was no harm done.

PPS - I'm not even entirely sure that Bampa HAS a penis, such is the girth of his old man flaps and fatty tumors on his undercarriage.

*OMFG I just realized where the word "PEC-ker" came from!!!