Squirrel-faced b****, you can have him. You’ll be disappointed, because he doesn’t have any nuts (figuratively). But maybe you’ll last because he doesn’t have a brain either. That is, if you can even get him. You cried to him, wetting your fur and chirping dramatically, and lied about me bitching you out. It was surprising to get a call at work (not that you know what work is past the thing daddy does to buy you things) and be told I’m a psycho for threatening you. I didn’t even know who you were. I wish I hadn’t looked up a picture, you’re the ugliest squirrel I’ve ever seen. I didn’t bother to try to correct him long, I don’t want to mate with something so stupid. I have a hoard of men who would love to be with me. I don’t have to lie and fake cry for attention. My daddy didn’t raise me to be a spoiled brat and helped give me these gorgeous human genes.

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