I’ve Got a Tiny Hippo In My Bed


I totally want Beck to come out with a song called “Tiny Hippo,” the chorus of which would go, “I’ve got a tiny hippo in my bed” so that I could sing that to Mrs. Wigglebottom every morning.

It’s hard to look all fierce and scary when you’re walking around the neighborhood in the morning when someone has to stop and graze right on the side of the busiest street.

Who’s afraid of herbivores?  No one.  Even hippos, which Mrs. Wigglebottom resembles and which are actually dangerous, are hard to get worked up over.

In other news, my cell phone camera is crappy, but crappy in a way that really pisses me off, because, if I were any sort of artist, I would be able to use that crappiness to my advantage and take such awesome photos that y’all would lay in bed thinking, “God, that Aunt B., I wish I had her phone.”


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