Dear Ms. Sibley the Squirrel,

I just heard, that this whole time, the main reason that you’re not talking to me was because of the strawberries? I have only one thing to say about that: I could give a rat’s ass whether you did or didn’t steal the strawberries. I don’t even like strawberries. As far as my universe is concerned, they don’t even exist. You went for three weeks without talking to me because of the stupid strawberries? That’s almost as stupid as the Stupid Dogs!

Sidebar: What does that even mean anyway? To give a rat’s ass? Is that a good thing or a bad thing? What does a rat’s ass look like? Does the rat’s ass have to be a particular shape or size or color? How does one go about obtaining a rat’s ass? Then what does one do if one were to receive such a rat’s ass? What about other asses? Why does a rat have the market on asses? In a pinch, can you substitute a mouse’s ass?

You see, these are the kinds of discussions we could have had, if you weren’t sulking around. I miss the days when you and I had real conversations about the more important things in life. Who is the worst president ever? Bush or Bush? Or Nixon? Is the Man in the Moon really a man? Is it better to buy commodities based on the Leading Lipstick Indicator or the J. Lo Bottom? Who is badder: Bruce Lee or Jet Li? Or Jackie Chan? Do peanuts make you fat?

We all know that you didn’t steal the strawberries, Ms. Sibley, and frankly, nobody gives a rat’s ass. If you must know, it was Mama M. the entire time. She even gave Madeleine The Stupid Dog that strawberry so that she could pose for the photo shoot. Madeleine would do anything if she thought she was the center of attention!

So there! The truth is out now. Can we get back to normal, please? I miss my wise old friend with whom I can have real conversations with. The one who could have given a rat’s ass about the stupid strawberries!


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