I don’t understand guys who don’t eat pussy. As long as it’s washed ain’t nothing to it.
At three-thirty that afternoon, Harry, Ron, and the other Lyondors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first running lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the innocuous forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.
The Snaketherins were already there, and so were twenty pairs of sneakers lying in neat lines on the ground. Harry had heard Fred and George Weasley complain about the school sneakers, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you ran too fast, or always ran slightly to the left.
Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and normal eyes like a person.
"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a pair of sneakers. Come on, hurry up."
Harry glanced down at his sneaker. It was old and some of the laces stuck out at odd angles.
"Stick out your right hand over your shoes," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say ‘UP!’"
"UP!" everyone shouted.
Harry’s sneaker did nothing, it was one of the many that did. Hermione Granger’s had simply not rolled over on the ground, and Neville’s hadn’t moved at all. Perhaps sneakers, unlike horses, couldn’t tell when you were afraid, thought Harry; there was a quaver in Neville’s voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet off the ground.
Madam Hooch then showed them how to tie their sneakers without them sliding off the feet, and walked up and down the rows correcting their knots. Harry and Ron were delighted when she told Malfoy he’d been doing it wrong for years.
"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your sneakers steady, move a few feet, and then come straight back here by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle- three- two-"
But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left behind, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch’s lips.
"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was moving straight forward like a cork shot out of a bottle- twelve feet- twenty feet. Harry saw his scared white face look down at the ground moving, saw him gasp, slip sideways out of his sneakers and- WHAM”
To smell a rat means to detect something suspicious.
To smell a rat è l’equivalente inglese di “sentire puzza di bruciato”. Per esempio, si può dire: “I don’t think this was an accident. I smell a rat.”
Anonymous said: This has been far more thought-provoking than I'd imagined. Looking at it from your side, it definitely appears to be as you say. It's not many times I have a debate like this, with someone so unbiased. You've earned my respect. I thank you again for being so engaging and helping me understand the whole picture.
It is nice to get more confrontational asks sometimes. Usually it is just something I can answer in two sentences, one of which is probably mostly emoji and contains the word “peesmell”.
Anonymous said: I'm actually really happy to have had this conversation. You're really insightful. I definitely have a lot to think about when referring to things like this. The only thing left that bothers me is your decision based on the quality of the comic. Whether or not it's perceived as entertaining shouldn't have too much to do with how seriously the underlying problem should be dealt with. If it were "better", you'd take the issue more seriously? The author's issue stays the same both ways.
The quality of the comic is the reason it was rejected. If it was interesting enough the “power that be” would have looked past any perceived furriness.The problem is he is submitting his clearly furry aimed comic to newspapers, a dying medium, that appeals to a customer base of people who still read newspapers (Who are like what? 60+ year olds who can’t use technology? I’m sure they will want to read this furry webcomic).
The real problem is that rather than face reality he subtlety blamed his rejection on a “sexual furry” scapegoat. Maybe he isn’t aware how bland his comic is and really thinks that if furries were just perceived to be a squeaky clean bunch of eccentrics his comic would find great success. But if that is the case then sorry, no it wouldn’t.