Jesse: Shut up Courtney. No matter what Harriet says when she’s nose deep in her eighth mimosa, gushing over your stupid ears while petting you with a pearl-handled poodle comb, you are not a work of art. She’s not even your real mother, you came from a shelter in a weird moment of impassioned guilt where she saw a special on Animal Planet and drove down there all crying with her makeup running down her face and the guy was like “uh” but she slipped him three fifties and here we are. Yes Courtney, a shelter. So get up off that handcrafted 18th century Laurent de Chevalier divan and go stick your nose in some poop like a real dog.
P.S. Nice udders fatso.
Lisa: She's winking, Jesse, which makes me think this dog has an udderstanding (thank you) of irony beyond that of the average hipster. Please be nice.
No comments:
Post a Comment