Stinks and Chariman collogued last night at the stroke of midnight to discuss how mediocre the new cat food I purchased for them at Deals and Discounts is and staged a protest for this morning in which they jumped on my head and stomach as I slept till I got the message loud and clear.
Iris the Bearded Lady decided to enter the International Mustache, Beard and Sideburn Convention but her mediocre-level facial hair prevented her from taking home a title. However, she did such a great job growing chest hair that, after colloguing over the matter, the judges awarded her the first annual “Best Hair Bra” trophy.
While our dear friend began yelling to her dear husband due to some painful contractions, Longshanks and I collogued in the second bedroom, plotting ways to surprise our dear friend into birthing the stubborn baby–all of our ideas were mediocre however, so we decided to pretend that everything was normal and ate some cookies instead. We also began decorating the second bedroom, which was assigned the theme of “Port and Starboard,” but ruined the entire interior by somehow creating a “Boats n’ Hos” montage on an accent wall. While we stepped back to survey our damage, we used a hobson-jobson phrase, synonymous among all Romance languages: merde!