Mr. Potato Head (to the Potatoe Head Family): Sssssh will you shut the fuck up. I keep telling you, there's nothing to lose by trying. Here we go.
Am I not your Brother?
If you prick me, do I not bleed?
Blogista: No. And when stabbed you just leak potato juice.
Mr. Pototo Hod: So we can be on your blog then?
Blogista: You can have the second floor all to yourself and family, as long as you take your shoesies off and don't wear your hats indoors. Tenants are expected to shave regularly. We do not entertain guests of a less-than-latte persuasion.
Mr. Poteoteo Horde: So we will be reduced to being potatoes with big false plastic pink ears. Alors. You undertake not to bake us with cheese'n'benz or tuna mayoniosse?
Blogista: Your children are wearing yellow slag bands. In my book, that means I can eat them with a little chopped chive and a plain French dressing. Nom nom nom.