Elvis puckering up

  June 23, 2008 – I always said you haven’t really been kissed until you’ve been kissed by Elvis. I have been kissed by Elvis many times, too many to count, really. I apologized to him again for conspiring with the vet to kill him in a dream last week, and I brought him his new favorite treat today, a donkey cookie, and so he came over to inhale the thing, which must look like a peanut to him, and so he came over and licked me on the head, although this time I spared the camera lens, which took me an hour to clean last time and still has gook on it.
  When you kiss Elvis, flies land on you, and it stinks, and there is manure all around and he loves to snort and drool on you and his tongue is the size of a pillow and is rough and sticky, and well,  yuk.
   Lot of love there, and he is not discreet or delicate, so I smacked him on the nose with my camera bag, and he looked hurt, and backed up, which is much like a tractor trailer backing up, hissing and snorting and grinding, and then I got out of there before he could kiss me again. I love Elvis, but I could do without being kissed by Elvis. And he has eaten many a good baseball cap.
  I am glad I didn’t kill him, though.