Please tell me I'm not the only one. Please tell me I'm not the only one who thought that a PoNY was a baby HoRSe. Y'all thought that too, right? Right?!
You see, the highlight of our Turkey Day Dinner ensued when, after explaining my male turkey vs female chicken misunderstanding, a 4-year-old began to grill me on baby animals. This bitch grilled me hard. She grilled me like a Spanish Inquisitor, and she didn't let up until my soul was third-degree charred.
I was lost. I was confused. I was like PaRiS HiLToN at a MENSA convention. She even schooled me you've-been-served-style on "mammals", these warm-blooded, oxygen-breathing, live-birthing, milk-feeding thingys. (Whatever that means!)
I brought joy to the table, in the form of oh-how-MiCHaeL-aNTHoNY-is-oh-so-stupid laughter. But no bother, for inside I was silently smiling too. You see, the laugher-at-me's-and-not-with-me's live in a trailer-esque one-bedroom in a cornfield.
I'm a 25-year-old with a condo on the Hollywood Hills upslope! Who's the idiot now, I ask?!
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