I have lobbied for quite a while to get my friend to name one of her animals on their urban farm in Washington after me. It would possibly take my death from fire to finally get a namesake. So I’ll take a goat instead.
Friend: This is Gina Goat. She won’t shut up. Much like her namesake.
*prom queen wave*
I want to thank my children, social media, my best friends, and anyone else who encourages me for this great honor.
I look forward to being milked and/or bred and/or eaten and/or traded someday.
Friend: Oh geez. See, I knew this was a mistake…
Me: She’s purrrrrty. I mean, *I’m* purrrrrty.
Friend: She’s pretty ornery. Not huggable… I think we’ll have to force her to “people.”
Me: That’s just cruel to Ginas.
Friend: See? All the others are in awe of her loud mouth…
Me: She’s probably hungry or bored. Give her snacks and a laptop.
Friend: She’s sad. What does she like? Tacos? Pizza?
Me: Is it cannibalism if you feed her cheese?
Friend: They’re pretty picky eaters, actually. Hay and dandelion flowers and branches and they’re good.
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you’ve hurt me deeply in the deep place of hurts?