WHerE the RAwkkin' things happen:
On an old table,
in a small room,
in a tall building,
in great ol' Canada.
That sounds almost like a haiku or some shit, but I'm no poet, so it's not.
I do prefer real contact like a hug, or a soft caress on the elbow, but if you must, feel free to fill out these wee boxes and tickle your own fancy requests.