How big was the pile of treats required to get all those dogs in one place and stay still and smile long enough to take a photo?

Heat level: “fire-extinguisher hot”.

Then you are the “lesser being”!

Rubbish! No-one is discriminating against vampires.

So even though Santa doesn’t live at OUR north pole…

Wait, what?!

And don’t feed it after midnight!

When’s he going to text me?!

Boo!

Behold how moisture glistens on my epidermis!

Looks delicious!

We like to put the tomato over a smear of basil pesto.

I expected a brown broth because you said shoyu. What gives it the red color?

I happily trade future destruction for present deliciousness.

Yeah, that looks like it!

My dog loves to put the side of his snout against the snow, and plow. Then he flips onto his back and does a little wriggle back and forth before flipping over again and standing up. Rinse and repeat. Is that anything like what Daisy is doing here?

2048 chickens.

We are the creature’s servants.

You put the baby in the bed, and tuck, tuck, tuck.

You put the Botox in the face, and pinch, pinch, pinch.

Is this not just a transcript?

I think Z must be playing the game: stroke Trump’s ego.

(For those playing along at home, those “best beaches” are on the Big Island, while my suggestion is on Oahu.)