Day 3 of being stuck in the house with a sick Camy. This is a scary place to be. She’s well enough to torment the dogs and give me attitude but she isn’t well enough to really go anywhere.
We’ve had little sleep and way too much Mickey Mouse and his M-F Playhouse.
I can always tell that I’m about to lose it when I start silently cursing Mickey Mouse and his asshole friends. Everything that little pansy mouse says starts grating on my nerves. “Well, uh, hey there Donald! Uh, whatcha doin’ with all those ducks?” and I find myself answering in my mind, “Mind your own effin business, Mickey. You aren’t in charge of the world you ass. Donald can do whatever he wants with his stupid ducks.”
And Donald. Donald no one will ever take you seriously. You are like 50 years old and you still have a speech impediment. Get it together.
Then that hick Clara Belle Cow comes wandering in singing about some stupid crap. Shut up with the singing you dumb heffer. Your voice sucks and you like Goofy who has an IQ of 3. He laughs constantly, stammers over his words and he loves stinky shoes. GFY Goofy.
I want it to be Mickey Mouse fight club. I want it to get dark and for shit to get real. I want Mickey to mind his own business and when he doesn’t I want them to all turn on him and put his nosy, bossy, holier than thou, chuckling little rat ass in his place…a bars of soap in socks kind of style beat down.
He lost a foot and some of his ear. He's Fight Club Mickey.
I know what you are thinking…Lynsey should get some fresh air or something. Don’t even act like these stupid ass kids shows don’t make you lose your cool at least in your mind from time to time. I’ve heard that Caillou is a real jerk and Thomas is too boring to even consider so Mickey it is….time for more Mickey but at least it will be more entertaining in my head.