The Troof, the Whole Troof & Nuffing But the Troof
All right, all right! I confess. I did! I did do it! But it was still ALLHER FAULT. For some unfathomable reason, she picked me up like a sack of potatoes and started carting me around the house with her. By the time we got to the kitchen, I had had it with the sightseeing tour and made a break for it. Can anyone blame me if I used the palm of her hand as my launch pad? I rest my case.