that dorky teapot is staring at me.
those prissy curtains are judging my outfit.
the svelte spatula thinks i'm chubby.
the socialite dessert spoons think i should get out more.
those sociopathic dish rags are plotting to kill me.
your fundamentalist doorknob is praying for my soul.
that brawny waffle-maker thinks i'm a weakling.
my clumsy ice machine has a crush on me.
your red-checkered tablecloth disagrees with my politics,
and my overweight backpack is stalking me again.
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