You know that scene in Toy Story where the toys break into the bad kid's room and it's all hybrid-robo toys that the kid has torn apart and put together all wrong?
That scene creeps me out SO BAD.
Behold, Trophy Baby. Much like a Trophy Wife, he will be the delight of your ego, but feel free to ignore him when no one is taking notice. Put him in a closet, on a shelf, in a bookcase...but know this:
He knows what you did last summer.
Feel free to put vodka in the trophy. People won't know you're drunk. They already think you're a nut job.
Posted by Karen Sugarpants on November 7, 2008 @ 3:57 am