An average day at my house:

Cat: A stare of pure hatred that says, “I’ve been standing next to my bowl for ten seconds you lazy uncaring dick, where’s my food?”

Dog: Postman (or anyone) knocks on my door. She goes crazy barking. I shout “Jeez, shush with the barking ffs”. Dog thinks, ‘Now we’re both barking. This is the best day ever’

The cat knows she’s in charge. The dog knows the cat is in charge. The cat knows the dog knows this, and endlessly exploits it. I am merely Food Man. Loved by the dog, loathed by the cat.

I wasn’t filmed because camera-phones weren’t a thing yet, but when I was younger and fitter I could lean right forward and just reach myself, just to lick. My girlfriend thought it was the hottest thing ever and told her closest mates and thanks to the miracle of MDMA I agreed to show them, my gf and two of her mates, in the ladies, in a nightclub. I got a kick out of knowing they were watching, but when I think back now, it was probably a lot more seedy than it seemed at the time, but hey, I was young, stupid and off my face 🫣 It made me realise I liked people to see me (not like, random strangers outdoors!) just someone I trusted watching.

Does that make me weird?