Beware of the porcupine, watch out for the cowgirl

He is patient and diligent. He does his thing, on his own.

He won’t come knocking at your door to give you advice and trouble.

He likes to be left alone.

He’s looking for Madame Porcupine who will make his scavenger hunt worth all his while. Apart from her, the only other matter on his mind is finding a piece of dirt. A little corner where he and Madame Porcupine could stare at and appreciate each other’s existence, each other’s company, and the piece of land he and she would fancy calling home.

He lives a simple life and simply goes by, unnoticed.

He doesn’t build like the beaver. He doesn’t plant like the squirrel.

He’s fairly slow and plain simple.

When menacing creatures smell his marks, they tend to track. That’s when he goes to hide.

Some look for trouble, while others don’t.

He is patient and diligent. He does his thing, on his own. Overall, his enterprise is fairly slow.

Good manners, for his kind, consist in being kind. That’s plain simple. He kindly goes around.

But here she comes, that freaking bitch.

Like all dogs in the woods, she likes to hunt.

She smelled him from afar; she liked his smell.

She is hooked, i.e. she is determined: she’ll get a taste!

The freaking bitch follows his track. Mister Porcupine left

His pheromones, everywhere.

He is an easy prey.

He is slow and went heavy on the marks he painted all over the part of the forest he has been occupying, hoping, wishing, dreaming of Madame Porcupine.

He was here and smells like that. He was there and could do that.

He shows his true smell and colours for his one and only, so that IF she likes what she smells THEN she might come to meet him. Once they are in front of each other, Mister Porcupine hopes Madame Porcupine will fancy what she sees. IF she does and lets him know that she likes him, THEN he has a chance at living his dream.

But here she comes, that freaking bitch.

Like all dogs in the woods, she likes to hunt.

She smelled him from afar; she liked his smell.

She is hooked, i.e. she is determined: she’ll get a taste.

The freaking bitch followed his track. Mister Porcupine left

 

His pheromones, everywhere.

 

It was fastidious but easy; the freaking bitch found him.

Once she sees him, the bitch fancies what she sees.

Mister Porcupine looks twice as good as he smells.

He is a gift that keeps on giving.

She was hooked, now she goes ballistic: get a taste of the sweet porcupine, by all means!

Mister Porcupine sees her coming.

He tells her to back off. He articulates, explicitly, at least thrice: NON MERCI.

The freaking bitch couldn’t care less.

 

She’s already invested all this time and energy to get to him:

She won’t give up!

Tenacity has been the hallmark of her kind.

She was raised not to give in to any other vice than

Temptation for what smells and looks good.

 

It’s plain simple.

She enjoys his pheromones + She fancies his coat = She likes him.

She likes him + She found him = She wants a taste of him.

She wants a taste of him + He tells her NON MERCI = She overrides his cues and calls it tenacity.

 

Mister Porcupine is patient and diligent.

Mister Porcupine is an easy prey.

Mister Porcupine is kind.

That’s all fine and good, but the freaking bitch mistakes his attractiveness for A BIG YES.

Madame Porcupine had smelled him first.

Madame Porcupine had found him first.

Madame Porcupine had said A BIG YES, as well as MOI AUSSI.

 

When she hears the freaking bitch scavenging the woods tracking Mister Porcupine, she smiles.

Mister Porcupine was hoping and wishing, waiting for her, not for that freaking bitch.

It’s in her blood. She knows. She was meant for him, from the tip of her nose

To the last of her army of prickly spikes, she keeps all over her body.

 

From afar, the freaking bitch thinks they are as soft as feathers or wool.

From up close, the freaking bitch gets a well-deserved slap, like a fool,

Coming from Madame Porcupine defending her lover

Getting down at that freaking bitch like the thunder.

Canada, the land of the gentils, who will turn into spiky porcupines, si t’as pas ben compris.

 

NON MERCI means NON MERCI.

 

&&&

She is bold and diligent.

She does her thing, on her own.

Even if nobody follows, here she goes.

She came knocking at your door to give you a helping hand and a caring ear.

She likes company.

She’s looking for her cowboy who is on the road, ahead, behind, i.e. all around her. 

His scavenger hunt, like hers, is worth all her while.

Apart from him, the only other matter on her mind is caring for the pieces of dirt she comes across. A massive web of land where she and her cowboy could stare at and appreciate each other’s existence, each other’s company, and the pieces of land she and he would fancy calling sweet.

She lives a simple life and simply goes by, exuberantly.

She builds like the beaver while her cowboy plants like the squirrel.

She’s fairly fast and quite sophisticated.

When menacing creatures smell her marks, they tend to bark.

That’s when she shoots back from the hip.

Some look for trouble, while others don’t.

She is bold and diligent. She does her thing, on her own. Overall, her enterprise is fairly fast.

Good manners, for her kind, consist in being kind. That’s quite sophisticated. She kindly goes around.

 

But here he sits, that freaking dog.

Like all dogs in the hood, he likes to bark.

He smelled her from afar; he liked her smell.

He is hooked, i.e. he is determined: he’ll get a taste!

The freaking dog smelled her and barked. Madame Cowgirl left

 

Her pheromones, everywhere.

 

She is a fancy prey.

She is fast and went heavy on the marks she painted all over the gazillion paths she has been exploring, hoping, wishing, dreaming of her cowboy.

He was here and smells like that. She was there and could do that.

He shows his true colours while she displays her perfume, aka her exuberant odour, for her cowboy, i.e. her one and only, so that WHEN he recognizes her smell THEN he might come to meet her.

Once they are in front of each other, Madame cowgirl hopes her cowboy will harness what she has spread. 

IF he does and succeeds in piecing his loonies and her toonies together, THEN they have a chance at living their dreams, together.

But here he sits, that freaking dog.

Like all dogs in the hood, he likes to bark.

He smelled her from afar; he liked her smell.

He is hooked, i.e. he is determined: he’ll get a taste!

The freaking dog smelled her and barked. Madame Cowgirl left

 

Her pheromones, everywhere.

 

It was fast and easy; the freaking dog saw her.

Once he sees her, the dog fancies what he sees.

Madame cowgirl looks twice as good as she smells.

She is a gift that keeps on giving.

He was hooked, now he goes ballistic: get a taste of the sweet cowgirl, by all means!

 

Madame cowgirl heard him barking.

She tells him to cool off. She articulates, explicitly, at least thrice: BE NICE, SWEETY.

The freaking dog couldn’t care less. He’s already invested all this time and energy waiting for her:

He won’t give up.

Security has been the hallmark of his kind.

He was raised not to do anything else than sit and wait until

Something peculiar swings by, at which point he’s got one job, and one job only:

Bark, bark, bark and show his teeth.

It’s plain simple.

He enjoys her pheromones + He fancies her coat = He likes her.

He likes her + She swings by him = He wants a taste of her.

He wants a taste of her + She tells him BE NICE, SWEETY = He overrides her cues and calls it security.

 

Madame cowgirl is bold and diligent.

Madame cowgirl is fancy prey.

Madame cowgirl is kind.

That’s all fine and good, but the freaking dog mistakes her attractiveness for a BIG YES.

Madame cowgirl is into cowboys, not dogs.

Madame cowgirl has encountered many dogs along her exuberant journey.

Madame cowgirl saw the dog’s menacing teeth, and still replied, kindly: BE NICE, SWEETY.

When he hears the story of the freaking dog guarding the hood against his cowgirl, the cowboy smiles.

Madame cowgirl was hoping and wishing, looking for him, not for that freaking dog.

It’s in her blood. He knows. She was meant for him, from the tip of her nose

To the last of her army of enchanting feathers, she keeps all over her body.

 

From afar, the freaking dog thinks they are as tender as the duvet on a pussy cat

From up close, the freaking dog gets a well-deserved clap, like a rat,

Coming from the cowgirl defending herself, shooting from the hip, like would her lover

Getting down at that freaking dog like the thunder.

 

USA, the land of the free, who will hit back like a cowgirl, si tu fais genre t’as pas compris.

 

BE NICE, SWEETY means BE NICE, SWEETY.

***

Savato Kiriako, fancying a cow, a beaver, a porcupine, etc. mais pas trop. Juste assez, comme il faut.