Don't you love ghetto-drama cell conversations? We should so go on Montel. I could pretend to be transsexual, and you could be cheating on me with a mariachi midget with a toupee. Yeah.
Okay. We'll have to tie your ankles to your thighs though, and put baby shoes on your knees. Also, we have to pimp up your sombrero... with a nice pink feather and a band of zebra stripes. And you'll have to spastically totter around the stage screaming 'Andale! Andale!' (I don't know how to make accent marks over the E's). Midget mariachis are awesome. Or so I speculate.
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Whatever the drama (God, what is it this time?) may be, I wish y'all luck with it. And a pox upon those who wish to ruin a good time. :)
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