I was hanging out with Poppy earlier when I suddenly started having a ‘ticcing fit’ that, without any reason or warning, was abruptly gate-crashed by whales. Fortunately Poppy had the presence of mind to press record on her phone:
“Whale cocks make the panthers jealous.
The weight of a whale’s cock is resting on my thigh.
The weight of a whale’s cock is crushing the mind of an antelope.
Imagine a whale’s cock folded into a pitta bread.
Whale cock – like a stopcock but on a whale.
Whale cock or sundial? Choose!
Put a whale in the dock.
Imagine a snail’s cock next to a whale’s cock.
More slippery than a snail’s cock, larger than a whale’s cock – it’s a marshmallow cock.
Trigonometry or whale cock?
Triangulate the universe with a whale’s cock.
Sperm whales are donating their cocks to seaside animals.
I came, I saw, I whale-cocked it up.”
Normally flurries of tics like this end as suddenly as they begin, never to appear again. However, “Whale cock” has continued on and off for the rest of this evening. I don’t mind being known as the ‘Biscuit woman’ or the ‘Hedgehog lady’, but I’m not too keen on the prospect of being the ‘Whale cock girl.’