Mr. Rebbins, The Attack Giraffe!

A giraffe is going to come after me and kill me. You think I am being unreasonable, fuck you! You are being unreasonable, or at the very least, NOT BELIEVING! You did not have the encounter with Mr. Rebbins the attack giraffe! You have no idea what the fuck you are talking about! Mr. Rebbins is of super quality enigmatic porportions! Mr. Rebbins can run fast too, much faster than a measly human; 358.3 mph versus about 5. But we humans have the brains, right? Not so! Mr. Rebbins can read, in fact, he loves Ernest Hemingway and Ellen DeGeneres the best. He thinks Rosie O'Donnell is a fat cow, and he eats cows, so he likes her, "she tastes like yummy." Or so he told me before he threatened to killed me for not doing making his makeup the way he wanted it. Well played, Mr. Rebbins, well played.

But anyway, not only can Mr. Rebbins read, he can also do other complicated mind tasks like: alphabetizing, laundry, washing the car, googling, feeding the cats and/or dogs, getting you past that level in San Andreas, and many other virtuoso-capable things. He can paint, be he would rather make other people paint. I was made to paint. That's why I'm still alive. Mr. Rebbins said I had to paint his portrait or else! "He had to paint my portrait, or else!" So I painted Mr. Rebbins, and he said the nickname that his crew always called him was "the attack rebbins", I told him that was stupid and he looked at me menacingly and told me to shutup and paint, but I changed it to "the attack giraffe" anyway...

... Oh my God, he found me, I don't know how but he found me! I never told him I changed his nickname. Oh my God on a shit stick, he looks pis--

BLOGGING DIFFICULTIES.... please stand by.



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