"Hello my good friend from 303L" No TIMMY YOUUU live on 303 NOT ME!...
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“Lady, I never seen anything like it” he said
“You got real purdy hair lady. Purdier than them rabbits who had to go away”
“Please, I must get going now” I said
“I gots to pet it” he said
“Nooooo” I shouted as Lenny’s hairy hydraulic paws grasped at my tragic bouffant. His petting was as thorough and invasive as Steinbeck had suggested. And yet, and yet… I was still alive. “I might make it” I thought.
This proved to be premature. As I wriggled uncomfortably and ruminated on the possibility of surviving the ordeal of becoming his human hug machine/pet.
I fell, as limp as a stringy puppet. Lenny scuttled away, to a whole new floor and a whole new petting-related nightmare. I lay lifelessly: a lonely corpse with exquisite hair.
Gruesome I know but…after my friend Greg told me how he used to work for the special Olympics and his job was to greet the special runners with a hug as the crossed the finish line, and one kid hugged him so hard he crack 3 ribs and broke 1…I now know they may mean well but sometimes they can squish you to death LOL. Greg hasn’t been right ever since!
Fuck this…I have to out smart Timmy from the 3rd floor, before Slingblade Lennie kills me like a mouse.