Imagine turning your oven on (a very slow striptease should do it), putting little streets and trees and houses inside, and some unpleasant smells, and then shrink yourself and walk around. That's pretty much it right now. Watering the terrace when I get home isn't even fun because everything is so desperate for a drink. "Waaater!" they scream when I go out there. And then I have to let the precious aircon air out of the apartment while the sliding door is open. The cat is stretched on the floor, naked, with his fursuit hanging over the back of a chair. It's not a pretty sight, man, he should do some sit-ups. And the fur on his head stays on.
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