Them dawgs and their food theivin' ways is gonna git 'em kilt but good.
Twice in as many days the dogs have been literally throttled by me. I just see red and then I'm off the hook. The hormones suck.
Been so absolutely dead tired and sick lately, today I stayed in bed until nearly 4pm. My son was sweet enough to hang out with me and force me to endure hours of the darkest days of animation in the 20th century.
Yes, my friends, I am talking about the Chuck Jones era. Due to my son's current obsession with Tom and Jerry, I am subjected to this abomination almost daily. I don't know who this talentless hack thought he was, but he could have just committed this thoughtless acts of terrorism on a smaller scale, like poisoning a municipal water supply, or killing all the infant boys in the land, you know, something that we could easily get over. But no, he puts out the crappy animation for a generation to endure. He's probably dead by now, but if not, he should kick off soon, in a most painful way.
Think I'll go steal candy from orphans and kick some old ladies. Then scuttle back to bed.
How does that nutjob in Arkansas survive all those pregnancies? She's got to have some brain stem missing or something, 17 kids and counting, what a nutjob. But perhaps since she's been lactating and/or gestating for 25 years or so, the hormonal flux must pretty much not happen anymore. Freak.
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