|Pregnant Suri decided to do the cleanup ...|
|... right after yelling at Logan so ferociously, he began to hear shapes ...|
|... and taste the movement of butterfly wings.|
|Once Poppy extinguished her toosh, she decided to accept an invitation to a late-night date by some dumpsters.|
|They discussed such things as the moon and how it makes them bonkers ...|
|... until her date left, and she just stood there eating all the fruit she found in her pockets.|
|While Poppy was back alley gallivanting, this shit happened - |
and even without corporeal form, Stanley's still kvetching about the stereo.
|It was a truly tragic scene, until Stanley whips out his cane to threaten that whippersnapper grim reaper.|
|Shame that only Grimmy seems impressed with Stanley's performance.|
|Naturally, the day hasn't been strange enough, so Stanley pops right back to life. These Rosenzweigs refuse to die.|
|I'm now fully convinced this game is trying to give me a bleeding ulcer.|
|That's right, Suri, karate chop that clown. Does she have to do all the heavy lifting around here?|
|Logan, quit harassing Rachel about how bikes sound purple and get cleaned up for your son's birthday.|
|Robert Wilson can't smooch his cake without everyone there to watch.|
|You're a young adult now! |
Alright, everyone grab a slice of cake before he gets his chest hair all over it.
|Sit down, y'all. Logan has a speech to make about how houses taste like the smell of triangle.|
|Uh-oh. Robert Wilson and Poppy are pretending to be far too busy eating from empty plates to listen.|
|And Suri refuses to indulge your tomfoolery.|
|Don't look so offended, now.|
|I mean, Suri shoves phones down your girlfriend's face hole almost every time she asks.|
|And nobody gives you a hard time about how she's always showing them the weird fetish pictures she has on her phone.|
|Now that we have that settled, I think we have some Stanley senses tingling. Any ideas what it could be?|
|Boulders in the washing machine?|
|Well I don't know! Who can figure out what Stanley means half the time anyway. |
His mind is inscrutable, always laughing at birthday cakes, swinging his cane at death ...
|... dating an immortal girl who swans around in a nightgown and saddle shoes. |
Who even wants to try to decipher that happy horseshit?
|Oh hay. You had your baby. Can we name him Charlie?|
|Yeah, he looks like a Charlie. What are you doing, by the way?|
|Well, sure. Why give this one any special treatment.|
I Play Sims (part62)