Todd said start over. I quit my job, moved everybody out to the country. I just wanted to Country Baby this shit up out here, you know? Raise some apricot trees, make some compotes or whatever the fuck. Home school my ungrateful kids about the gold standard. Pastoral shit.
Is this zoo thing legal? Can that asshole realtor spring a zoo on me after I brought the property?
There are tigers in cages in our backyard. Tigers. I have a seven-year-old daughter. She looks like 50 pounds of raw steak crammed into a ballet dress to these things. Oh motherfuck, what am I gonna do? I feel sick. I need to sit down. Ooooooofff. I feel like I'm gonna pass out.
Rosie, why did you let me buy this? I can barely take care of you and you're a little kid. There's like an ostrich running around in my yard that looks like he wants to tear open my ball bag.
Ohhhhh god. Oh god. Bears. What do bears eat? Honey? Look at the size of those fuckers it must take oil drums of honey. That shit isn't cheap. Where do you even get that?
Ohhhhhh fuck. Watch where you step by the bridge. Who has alligators in this part of the country? I do, apparently.
Monkeys. Great. Wonderful. Just what I needed. I know I woke up this morning and I said, "I have a lot of shit going on in my life but please lord, god, lord if you are listening, just give me like fifteen crazy pissed off monkeys that I have to figure out how to feed." I sure hope monkeys like expired bread. You like that? The ducks like that. The ducks are team players.
Giraffe I can deal with. That's like a crazy horse, right? Just throw some apples up in the air at its head. It can catch apples, right? Come on, catch the apple you dumb shit. Come on! Fuuuuuuck. I can't stand here all day juggling apples for this motherfucker. Get a ladder I'm going to set some apples on the--oh it kicked over the ladder. Well maybe you can eat a bird then you son of a bitch.
Rosie! Kids, where you going? You can't leave me with all these things. There's some sort of family of giant ground hog looking things walking around in a pen back there. Help me figure out what those things are. Muskrats? This place smells so bad. DONE. Done. It tried to bite me. Did you see? This rat thing can suck my dick.
Do you have any idea how much these fucking things eat? What is this, a cheetah? Maybe we can feed it the rat things.
I admit it. I should have kept my job at the office. The country is horrible. Starting over is horrible. I don't want a fucking zoo. What am I gonna learn about myself and about the meaning of love and nurturing by getting crazy bites from tigers and shit like that? Fuck this. We are not doing this. I can't handle this degree of responsibility.
Alright, here's what we're gonna do. I've got it. Here's what we do. You stay in the car, lock the doors, and daddy is going to go get the gasoline. Lots and lots of gasoline. Then I'm gonna go get you guys an ice cream cake and any toy you want. Good deal?
Editor's Note: Due to a freak power outage, this obituary of Barbara Bush was written without the benefit of research. In order to pay our respects to this great woman in a timely fashion, we have decided to post this piece as-is. We hope you forgive any errors on our part.
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