One mans hell with cute overload
The thing about living in Hello Kitty Hell is that you can never make a simple request and not have the evil feline right there to haunt you. You would assume that if you asked your significant other if they could hand you a toothpick, you would get a normal wood toothpick. Not in Hello Kitty Hell. I asked my wife if she could hand me a toothpick after dinner last night and she actually handed me Hello Kitty toothpicks:
I know that it’s going to be a Hello Kitty Hellish week when my wife comes up to me with a huge smile on her face, her hands behind her back and asks me the dreaded question, “Guess what I have for you?” At that point I usually think that it would be a lot less painful to simply off myself at that very second, but somehow I manage to get a serene look on my face and ask back, “I have no idea, what is it dear?” (I think if they gave a reward for the person that could hide their true emotions, I would be in the running). Then, of course, I get presented with something like Hello Kitty toothpaste:
