Ficus elastica

inside front flap copy:

we booksellers of harvard book store think that the original cover for Young Miles (an otherwise fine production) is unspeakably ugly and may deter you from purchasing this hugo award-winning book which would otherwise provide you with hours of entertainment.

with that in mind, we are providing this alternate, less embarrassing cover for your reading pleasure. feel free to discard it and use the original cover if you enjoy flaunting its luridness. or, make it into a spaceship airplane, or what you wish. this has been a free service from

HARVARD BOOK STORE

since 1932

I mean they’re not wrong really

I got alllllll my points and coupons together for two jars of nice caviar because we love a thrifty splurge and now this pup has eaten a whole creme fraiche caviar potato chip just for him AND has been allowed to lick the caviar jar out two nights in a row

and holy shit does he like caviar. this is more enthusiasm than with peanut butter.

so he’s a first responder and his day shifts start obnoxiously early as far as I, a pampered corporate asshole, am concerned. almost invariably when he’s at my place there will be an alarm at an hour that is downright unconscionable that will make him wake up and roll out of bed to get ready and will simultaneously make me burrow under the pillows grumbling about how surely nobody actually NEEDS their lives saved this early in the morning, after which I will promptly attempt to go back to sleep

he is a clever man and he knows this is when i am most vulnerable to attack.

every single time we do this dance, he quietly dresses, packs up, goes about getting ready to leave, and then when i have juuuust fallen back asleep, he returns with the tortilla blanket. He finds it no matter where I have hidden it.

He then creeps silently up to my side of the bed and uses his superior speed, strength, and reflexes to wrap me up in it incredibly tightly while i am still dazed and sputtering, so that i cannot move my legs or arms and am reduced to humiliating halfhearted magikarp flops that do not deter him from at least attempting to kiss my forehead.

then he goes to my bedroom door, opens it, then pauses, turns around, looks at me, the soft human filling of the facsimile of an enormous burrito he has just constructed, and says in his best romantic lead voice “I’ll see you soon, beans.”

@wangxianbaybee @tinybluealien I actually infamously have a tortilla blanket. This post broke containment and I still see it routinely enough on tiktok and reddit that I think it’s fair to say that the thing I may be most well known for anything in my entire life might well be for owning a tortilla blanket.

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me beside the still waters.