Guess what you guys?
It’s gonna fuckin’ rain today!
SURPRISE!
There are only so many coloring projects Girlfriend can do and there are only so many closets Crissy can clean out and so the sun needs to make an appearance or else there’s gonna be trouble up in this bitch.
Seriously.
So yesterday the adorable and very loyal Queef Marie, inquired about Frank and Crissy thinks she’s psychic because Crissy had planned on writing about Frank today because he’s really done it this time, you guys.
Did Crissy mention that she planted all her garden stuff from seed back in March because Crissy doesn’t fuck around with no tomatoes from the Home Depot. She makes her own tomatoes and shit.
Crissy is hardcore.
And Crissy is about to get a little bit more hardcore because Frank the Woodland Douchebag Asshole has eaten his last motherfucking flower. Remember how last year he ate Crissy’s zinnias and some other stuff that she planted from her Papa’s generations old seeds? And remember how he waited until they bloomed to eat them?
You guys hang on Crissy’s every word, don’t you?
Well last year Crissy and Mister were driving through Newport when Crissy saw the most gorgeous orange poppies
and Crissy fell in love with them and she said that she wanted to try planting them this year and so she did and you know where this is going don’t you?
FUCKING FRANK.
He waited until they bloomed and then he destroyed every last one of them. Crissy planted an entire section of her garden with poppies and now there’s nothing left and she would have taken a picture of the devastation but she was so sad and weepy that she just ripped out the dead stems before she could get a photo. It’s just as well because the photo would have been crummy because Crissy could barely see through her tears to take a picture. It happened a week ago but Crissy is still bitter and maybe a little bit obsessed about it and Mister is tired of hearing her say “my poppies! That asshole!” just out of nowhere at random times throughout the day.
It’s like Frank is tapped into some sort of psychic thread into Crissy’s brain and he knows what Crissy’s favorite is and he just goes for that because the poppies are the only thing he touched.
Well, he did take a nibble of the mint but that’s probably because poppies give woodchucks The Halitosis.
Everyone knows that.
But he’s Satan’s Woodland Creature, Queefs.
And remember how Crissy’s Papa advised her to get all gangsta on Frank and shoot the motherfucker and Crissy is paraphrasing a little bit here but she thinks Papa’s exact words were “just get your shotgun out and shoot him. That’s what I do, and then I run like heck into the house because I don’t want the policeman to catch me.”
Isn’t Papa just adorable?
And remember how Crissy was all ” I can’t shoot Frank! That’s not humane!”
Not. Any. More.
There’s gonna be bloodshed the likes of which will make the Janjaweed look like a bunch of little pussies.
