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My cats demand worship every day (I type with a bag of chicken at my feet that I just pelted down to the butchers to get)
They also believe in kamikaze cuddles - fling themselves at me claws out when I come nekkid out of the bathroom, working on the assumption that they will find purchase somewhere.
If they're found wandering around with red marks on their heads soon it won't be a tika I can tell you.
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Life's hard you know, so strike a pose on a Cadillac
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