Hello friends, nemeses, erstwhile lovers perhaps? Welcome to another installment of "How Many Ways Can I Shill This Book I Wrote Without Being A Goober That Talks About Writing, Publishing, My Interior Life, Or Other Boring Shit That Won't Have Fun Pictures With It." I will get straight to the point: cats and dogs fucking love my book. They can't stop butting their little heads against it in their desire to become literate, verbal, and superior to us in even more ways. Below, an assortment of God's creatures being photographed with my book (their favorite book) entirely of their own volition.
First up, a personal acquaintance of mine, Dorito. Dorito has long been a champion of my work and his patronage continues apace. God bless you Dorito.
Who is this dog? What are his/her/their hopes and dreams, besides one day meeting me and having me sign their book? Trick question, that is their only hope or dream.
Next up is a photo taken in Heaven, the only place it is possible to live with four cats and still be cool as Dani is:
Here we have Hank, a gentleman of the wilderness who occasionally dreams of the glitz and glamour of Hollywood. Many thanks to his assistant Molly for the photoshoot on short notice:
Leila reports her dog as neurotic and elderly here but to me it is clear that he is merely protective and full of wisdom, seeing as he will not surrender his treasure:
HOLY SHIT THESE CATS ARE NAMED CHEESE AND CRACKERS, LIFE IS ABUNDANT AND FULL OF BLESSINGS:
Emily sleeps in a bed made of lies because there is nothing about Monkey's face that suggests "taking a liking to" but alas, he need not like the book to respect and endorse it for its incisive prose:
And last but not least, my somber son, my funny Valentine, my April Fool, and my Always: Keith Aaron Massey.