Daddy, I want a trained squirrel

Happy St. Declan’s day! What did you buy me?

We have come to a difference of opinion, ’round the Vomitola household. Mr. H thinks I am simply not funny. While I regard the concept of stalking myself as comedy gold, his first thought was that he was worried that I actually do this around the house while he’s not here.

Oookay. Clearly, we have a problem. Either he’s a jerk, or I’m not funny, or I’m criminally insane and haven’t noticed yet. Actually, the beauty of being criminally insane is not caring what anyone else thinks. I will always think I’m funny, and Zellweger thinks I’m funny, so that’s all that matters. The rest of you can hang, hang I tell you!

Ah, self-esteem is a wonderous thing. It’s all part of being a massive celebrity. Did I mention that I have diamonds glued to my toenails? This is really quite fetching.

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