Drinkable Sausage™

you follow me .. because … you don’t want to see my posts ?

by W.B. Yeats

Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand. The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand; A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.

“Rescue kitten. The only way I got it to stop crying for mama was by wrapping it up in a rag and petting it’s cheeks“

Please… 

turn the sound on and watch my friends foster kitten yell at her because she won’t let her develop an alcohol addiction.