Last night I dreamed that Craig Ferguson paid me big bucks to stay home and tell my cat jokes all day. The cat would laugh and tell me jokes back. It was awesome. Then one day I overheard my grandmother speaking to my mother. She said "That girl is not quite right". She said I imagined my cat telling me jokes, and that if I kept this up, I would have no future except in a mental institution. My mom just shrugged.I was concerned, so I asked Craig, "What if my cat isn't really telling me jokes? What if I'm just imagining it?" He said he didn't give a shit, because either way it was hilarious. I asked him if he knew Lizzy. He said no, and I was shocked. Then Craig and I made out on a bus on the way to a giant puppet parade in Soho. WTF? Even I'm shaking my head at this one.
3 comments:
uh....
Obviously you are going to have a menage a trois with Craig and a giant puppet.
Rod from Avenue Q?
Post a Comment