Freeloading Mothertruckin' Ant.

I get it. I'm a pretty awesome host. I have a sweet ass couch, my fridge is usually stocked with some wholesome goodness (aka, Smirnoff) and my bathroom stays pretty clean. I have some pretty flowers on my table, the garbage is always taken out before flies find a new home (unless it's Stampede week; I have a pretty good excuse then...) and I always have some good tunes playing (Top 3 songs: Maxine by Michael Bernard Fitzgerald, Turn Off My Heart by Rich Price and This Boy by James Morrison (6 points for guessing what sort of mood I'm in...) ).

However that does not give you the right to be a freeloading ant eating whatever sort of crumbs you find on the ground. Capiche??


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