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| Don't quote me, boy, cuz I ain't said s---. |
More audio droppings splattered about our environs, completely devoid of context. Enjoy!
“Can you give me my Taco Bell
feet, please, Daddy?”
“Here you go.”
“No, Daddy, these are my Taco
Bell hands.”
“Oh.”
“Can I have my Taco Bell feet now,
please?”
“I think HP is pooping, do you
think?”
“Well, she doesn’t look like it.
I mean, she’s not grunting or…”
“I SMELL somebody pooping. I
think HP is pooping, Daddy.”
“Daddy, have you seen my tiny
banana?”
“HP’s not doing the right thing,
Daddy.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“I just told her to look in my
eyes and listen. And she didn’t.”
“Get yourself some dingo, Daddy.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s right here. In the dingo
machine.”
“But what is dingo?”
“It’s just dingo.”
“But I don’t understand…”
“GET YOURSELF SOME DINGO, LITTLE
DADDY!”
“Did she suck it? I said, did she
SUCK IT, DADDY?”
“Stop! I said you have to go
south!”
“Who are you talking to, Bub?”
“I’m talking to my man.”
“Oh. What’s his name?”
“He doesn’t have a name.”
“Ooh, like Clint Eastwood in that
western…“
“Yeah, we’re just gonna do a
story now.”
“About what?”
“You’ll figure it out, okay? I’ll
teach you, Daddy.”
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