Hey K DD! Just because my shoes have “air pillow insoles” doesn’t mean you can go passing out in them after a noontime bender at the sailor bar. And guess what? YOUR feet don’t smell all that great either! In fact, they reek of pee-soaked Fresh Step, dollar store knock-off cologne and Wild Turkey which makes me wonder just WHO you’ve been “making the dough” on?! Seriously. Get your drunken moosh outa my kicks and go wash those nasty paws, you tramp.
You know I once had a dream about being under attack from a T-Rex (Jurassic Park style, not the band. Marc Bolan would never be that nasty) and, yet, the T-Rex’s mug was Brad Pitt’s. I was very confused in the morning.
Now you’ve made ME confused! Which way is up? Why is the sky crying? Are lions whelping in the streets?