
AKA: How to get dogs into a loft when you only have a ladder.
AKA: How to get dogs into a loft when you only have a ladder.
I would be considered magical if I was surrounded by mice that knew how to sew or birds that helped me bake pies. I’m just like that but with totally useless dogs. Magical AF.
It’s everyone’s birthday
I laughed my ass off, backed it up, and listened again so I could laugh some more.
I told her to abandon her feminist ideals about accurately portraying the female form and make me skinnier with bigger tits.
I was all super porny like, “Uhn. Baby, I love it when you talk that way.”
… except Loony but who cares what he thinks. Yesterday my phone blew up with people texting me pictures and videos of this bad motherfucker. Yes, I went there with the penis reference. OF COURSE I WENT THERE! WHEN DO I NOT GO THERE? I’m not alone. and … I love how supportive my community […]
Someone would come to the door and he’d let it swing open slowly and say, “Sure is dark on that porch. Ain’t you afraid of getting jumped?” Then when the person stuttered a reply, “Speak up boy! What the hell is wrong with you? Ain’t you never seen a black man before?”
We have some problems with the other flock pecking at each other so now when the Silkies go to the Coop du Jour to range during the day, Annabel the Cannibal goes to solitary confinement at the Poulet Rouge until her Pinless Peepers arrive.
I present to you Le Coop Du Jour. Like soup du jour but with a coop. That’s French for coop of the day because they use it during the day. And coop rhymes with soup. Get it?