Oh, my god . . . If those mimes get into the ventilation system and start reproducing, we’ll have to have the building demolished . . .
Someone needs to round up all the mimes, load them into a rocket and shoot them towards Neptune. In space, no one can hear them scre… um, never mind…
Mimes, toddlers and clowns - Oh, MY!
Ewww. Perhaps I’m not a proper female for not getting all gooey at the sight of babies, but that’s how it is. And there is nothing even remotely cute about tawking wike dis to de wittle ones! No dere isn’t! What’s even less cute is talking like that to adults. Yeeeee-uck. Get me a bible and an exorcist, and I’ll make quick work of her Woyal Majesteee.
Don’t get me wrong. I love kids. But I don’t want to have to deal with them, much less have them at my job, so I haven’t had any yet.
But you have got to draw the line somewhere…And I think the line should be drawn at MIMES AND CLOWNS!
Sorry about your picnic, Eve. Look at the bright side, I’m stuck at home with Madame Pwincess Pwecious.
I think you should start talking baby talk back to her. And pinch her cheek while insulting her. Adults love that.
“Is pwincess pwecious a fucknugget? Yes she is! Oh yes she is!”
“Am I gonna wip pwincess pwecious’s tongue outta her head? Yes I am! Oh yes I am!”
In the words of Sheridan Whiteside, “I may vomit.”
And just remember, when you shoot a mime you must use a silencer.
My poor husband (who is not a “baby” person) was getting ALL HIS TEETH PULLED (no stress there, huh?) and the dentist had his 4 and 5 year olds playing cowboys and indians around the fucking dental chair. They were wingin’ toys at each other (every other one landed in hubby’s mouth) and the dentist was clueless as to how obnoxious and unprofessional this was. I swear, if Hon didn’t have a scalpel in his mouth at the time, he’d have drop-kicked those kids right into the x-ray machine.