Her Fucking Orangutan

Her Fucking Orangutan desperately needed a wig that they would break. It should be a fairly exciting idea, to my grandma, but not to the Orangutan, who thought it would be entertaining. Who would have imagined, a wig would be the item that was selected.

Her Fucking Orangutan craved for a helmet that they would occasionally smash. It was an extraordinary approach to life, to me and my wife, but not to the Orangutan, who felt it was magnificent. Strangely, a helmet is the item to select.

Her Fucking Orangutan looked for a chocolate bar that they would occasionally throw. It was a fairly different suggestion, to me and my parents, but not to the Orangutan, who had decided it would be out of this world. Bizarrely, a chocolate bar being the item selected.

Her Fucking Orangutan craved for a pint of cider that they sometimes demolish. This might appear to be a fairly surprising action, to my dad, but not to the Orangutan, who thinks that the idea was miraculous. A pint of cider was the chosen thing.

Her Fucking Orangutan desperately looked for a teapot that they would occasionally put on his head. This is certainly a fairly weird thing to do, to my grandma, but not to the Orangutan, who considered that the idea was sublime. Remarkably, a teapot was the chosen thing.

Her Fucking Orangutan desperately needed a bat that they liked to try to nail to the wall. It might be a funny suggestion, to my mum, but not to the Orangutan, who expected that this idea is sublime. Who would have imagined, a bat of all things.