“Its been a while since I’ve seen my liver because I accidentally left it at the visitation centaurrrr. But since Adumb hasn’t paid his fines, vihys-uhhh-tay-shuns are put on hold, which meeenz I can’t legally get my live-uurrrrrrrrrr back. Ugh! Coley daddy REALLY wants to adopt it, though, so we’ve enlisted a small army of lackluster lawyers to navigate the nuances of my most recently contrived S.Dakota-flannel-carhartt momma drama personal organ ownership. In the meantime, we’re at least filing for a name change. Live-errr Messy-Bun Houska Lind DeBORING. We weren’t going to bother with the name thing, but it’s super important to my liver—I didn’t even prompt her a million times about it; it’s what my liver wants herself. I swear. Visitation center, Visitation center, Visitation centaur, DeBoring, DeBoring, DeBoring. Centaur. DeBoer. Centaur. Centaur. Mahm Lyfe. Centaur. Am-fet-uhh-meenz ANNND methamphetameeeenz. Centaur. Grammadonna. DeBoer. Dangle. Last name. Name change. Grandmadonna. Didyourdadcometolunch? Howwaslunch? Lunch? Coleydaddy. Coley. Grandmadonna. Namechange. DeBoer. CENTAUR. And amphetamines. And methamphetamines. Deboer.”

-chels