|via my mate Oli|
You know the type.
The kind that refer to their dogs as their children, and themselves as their parents. Fairly sure I can't leave my fucking kids outside while I go out for a night on the booze, however, and I'm quite sure that my children can communicate with words, eat with utensils and don't lick their own arseholes.
But, you know, each unto their own...weirdos.