Momma tole me what I is a sad sock feelin' sorry for mine own self today and so she gonnas name it Poor George Day. Which, I does bees poor George. I has beed growin' my hairs ever since I were borned, and I still gots a wear fur pants what looks like theys maked outta eyebrows. And even know it beed a beauty shiny day outside, I only were too hot acause I don't gots no tail for to breeze me up. I only gots a stub. And my brains was boilin' acause Momma won't not let me gots perky ears and so my air holes bees closed over by a couple a flapjacks. But now Momma gonnas cheery me up and take me for to get ice cream. Then she hadda go 'n sayed, now, Georgie, you knows what you can only has a small cone, right? And she sayed it all happyish; which, that just maked me a sadder of a sock. I sayed, yes Momma, I knows, I knows. I is black toes intolerant.