(i’m writing this entry as though i were a world-wearied british anthropologist speaking to my longtime staunch companion, trudy the chimp)
i do believe i’m slowly gor-ing bazongos, trudy.
yes, yes, i know, the wuhld is a cold, hard place. i’m not trying to parse joodgment, trudy. it’s joost that dr. patkins, the oother anthroopooligist who i was eyeing, doesn’t seem to fancy me in the least.
furthermore, at the corstume pahty the oother day, i daresay people were hoofing and poofing at me. as though all my years of my research into human behavior and the psyche mean noothing! they treat me as though i’m merely driftweed in the ocean.
well, you know what i say to that, trudy?
*trudy smashes a ripe banana into my pant leg*
yes, exactly. who gives a bananer? who gives a bananer, i say! quite! quite! wot?
courtesy of Money.cnn.com.
good talk, trudy. well done, old girl.