Somebody blew up my ant farm.
This is the work of none other than Jose Canseco. I'm sure of it. With all the taunting I did, I should have seen it coming. As I doused his house with buckets upon buckets full of urine, a small part of my conscience warned me that inciting Canseco's wrath is probably not the wisest idea. But I had already eaten like a ton of Red Hots, and there was no turning back.
I loved that ant farm. I loved that ant farm like I loved a juicy hamburger on a cold winter's night. I loved that ant famr like a joey--a baby kangaroo--loves that gooey stuff in its mothers pouch. I loved that ant farm like the ground loves dirt and ants and being walked on. Plus those ants helped me blog, and they were funny. Or they would have been funny if they weren't too busy serving The Queen to develop a sense of humor.
You don't just crush a love like that and walk away easy. Jose Canseco, you just started a war that you won't be able to stop. You thought that urine thing was bad? What you've got coming is gonna make that seem like I planted flowers in the cracks between your toes. I'm gonna eat so many Red Hots--at least twice as many as when I poured the urine on your house. Then we'll see who blew up whose ant farm.
You haven't heard the last of me, Jose Canseco.
2 comments:
I'm curious as to what has been added to those Red Hots you've been eating.
They must be a diuretic.
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