So the other day my moms set up a playdate for me with a little girl from down the street. At first I was pumped. Cuz you know I’m all about the ladies. Holla. I put on my very best onesie, slicked my hair back with some grease I found under the refrigerator, slathered up my lips with some extra delicioso Wasabi Lip Balm (cuz you know the ladies love that spicy flava) and I was ready.
But it turns out little Miss Abagail was not what I was expecting. She may have been a total hottie, but she was also a royal pain in the patootie. She spent all afternoon drooling on my luchadores, eating my snacks, and defiling my mancave with her Barbie Dolls. By naptime, I was reaching boregasm status as she told me in excrutiating detail all about the last time that she went to get mani-pedis with her American Girl Doll.
Thankfully, mom called it quits right about then and I went back to smashing grapes into the carpet and eating my own boogers for fun. But later on, I found that she had left something behind. I thought about telling my mom so she could return it, but then I couldn’t help myself and this happened.
Sorry, Abby. My bad.
But on the positive note, I’m thinking it might be a new achievement in the field of competetive meat sculpting.