Here's the deal.
Anthony accidentally left me at the bowling alley. The big dope grabbed his kid, jammed some leftover pizza into his cargo pockets and took off. He never came back, so the next morning, I headed out. To find my destiny. To find myself. To find some boba.
It wasn't long before I found a nice new home in an abandoned newspaper receptacle. It's cozy, it's just my size, and it offers a nice view of parked cars. It was either that or a rusty bread bin I found in someone's garbage but I'm allergic to gluten. I guess it's all part of the adventure.
I'm eager to explore the world, make my mark, meet new friends and create a life for myself. Sure I have abandonment issues, and sure my drilling configuration is ludicrous. Aaaand I have no money. Or charisma. Or talent. Or self-esteem. But mark my words. It's my time to shine. No more bowling for me, no siree. As of today, I am officially ON STRIKE.
