No, really, this is fucking great.
Nothing's cuter than these two, decapitated, former friends dangling from either side of me.
There are a bunch of rockets strapped to my ass? Well, youâre a fucking racist.
Weâre not going to Hawaii? Youâre just going to make me wear this shitty grass skirt? Bitch please.
I hope you swallow a seed and it blooms in your lungs until you slowly suffocate.
You want me to stick my bum up because why...?
You really, really shouldn't have.
I'm a shrimp. I get it. You didn't have to be so on the nose about it, asshole.
You realize that by creating this elaborate, squirrel-sized set and tying me to it with squirrel-sized rope makes you a completely unfuckable psychopath, right?
I gained a little weight over the summer. We both know this. And people loooooove themselves a fat dog.
But you can eat shit and die if you think dressing me like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man is going to stop me from getting all up in your people food.
Is this what dying feels like?