seriously...
Little Boris was living happy, eatin' well, sleepin' well, living la vida loca
This morning, he woke up thinking about seizing the day and what not,
thinking about all the pussy he was going to get in a few months from now...
Life... was good
He didn't protest when i got him in the travel box...
Then i drove to the vet, at 15h45...
Boris was just a little bit confused by all that, but still taking it in good cheer...
picked him up sound a sleep, at 18h00...minus his balls...
Boris is not amused, and i'm sure clasified today as the worst day of his life...
he's still a bit groggy from it, no awake enough to get back at me in any way...
So today, for the first time in a long time, i'm drinking Scotch, in honor of Boris's Balls!!!
Sacrificed for his own good, even if he (understandably) disagrees on that subject...