I kid you not-the following happened exactly as it is written:
I make a discovery today that my children have apparently been renting and buying On Demand movies and shows on the regular for the past 3 months. To the total of $207! Shocking, I know. But as if that weren’t appalling enough, brace yourself, for this story takes an interesting turn. You see, on this list of purchases is a movie called The Greasy Strangler. A brief description of this movie goes like this: “A man who kills people drenched in fat and oils falls for a woman who likes his son.” Confused by how my precious little angels could have possibly purchased this fetish film, I confront them in the kitchen. I walk in to find them all dipping spoons into the carton of coconut oil I’d left out on the counter. They’re apparently entrenched in some sort of pretend play and I am, needless to say, all together horrified at the irony of the situation. I decide to skip the lecture as they massacre my coconut oil and I quietly exit the room. Now, I’ve spent all afternoon perseverating on this and I’ve come to one conclusion. Gabby. I’m undoubtedly putting all my money on my 2nd born for this one. Her kind, gentle nature only masks some serious coconutty shit.
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