[Here’s a piece of trivia for you: MAD Magazine, Mr. Potato Head, and I were all born in 1952.]
I’ve been thinking a lot about Mr. Potato Head lately. He and the Mrs. are on the verge of calling it quits after nearly 60 years together. There’s been more than the usual amount of bickering lately, and his roving eyes don’t help matters.
Used to be they never seriously considered divorce despite their hitting a rough patch every few weeks. They had the Tater Tots to think of, after all. But now the Tots are grown... and, anyway, what kind of marriage is it when all you have in common is the desire to go out and get fried?
Monday, October 4, 2010
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4 comments:
Oh dear, oh dear! "Mr. Potato Head's roving eyes" - I couldn't read the second paragraph for a couple of minutes after that from laughing so hard!
Is it a Victorian Mr. Potato Head!?
Or is it a schizophrenic! fucked up piece of shite with NO PENIS!
Its not my fault, Mummy never taught me how to wipe my own ARSE!
I have to agree with the Tots; if my folks were half-baked most of the time, I'd stay away too.
At least the kids are all a chip off the old block.
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