P & W: 4.2
It was a fucking tie. I shit you not. Apparently, these guys are well matched so, get in the ring motherfucker.
He is back and he is pissed if not a little tuckered out from the last fight. It's alright, I understand, sleep.
I think this might be some other kind of baby raccoon, like a Quebecoise raccoon or something. But, as you may know, I don't know shit about animals. He's got a nice nestle goin' on in that hand. Rounded ears, striped tail, little hands, sleepy eyes. Booya.
And his competitor:
Sloth in a box! and you're to blame.
So, when I left Dayton, the only thing in these boxes were books, knick-knacks, clothes, kitchen stuff and my Jumanji game. I swear. But now, there's this baby sloth hanging off the side and sleeping at the same time, which is adorable.
O man, o man. The thing about sloths is that they're called that for a reason. Lazy little fuckers and if you take them out of a tree and put them on the ground they look really uncomfortable and out of place. This guy on the other hand is right at home in a cardboard box as long as he can grip and dangle. Do your thing sloth-dog.
Get out the vote. Rock the vote. Vote or die.