My Fellow Inebriates,
I made another attempt on the fridge today, this time to get an UGLY SWEATER MILK STOUT.
How long did my parents remain unaware of my predicament? Who knows… Finally one of them yanked me out.
“Wait!” I pleaded. “I need that that UGLY SWEATER!”
Dad: “Buddy, you’re already wearing an ugly sweater.”
Mum: “You kind of are an ugly sweater.”
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Don’t let them talk to you like that. You are beautiful in every single way. Words don’t bring you down. I seem to have lapsed into Christina Agulara lyrics. *Ahem.*
LOL! At least, if they think I’m a sweater, they’re not making me (it) rub lotion on or anything quite so creepy.
Awww…so close….