The life and adventures of Mr. and Mrs. Bootyhole

Mr. Bootyhole hung a photo frame over
the wall, and
came home to find it shattered. He did not know whom or what to blame:
the weight of the body of the frame;
the tree it was cut from;
the mud the sapling was planted in;
the high definition of the picture;
the printer which took forth the job of printing it;
the glass embedded within;
the improper making of the bricks-
included, but not limited to the furnace
they were baked in, the manager, and the one who
gave them shape;
the frailty of the nail which held it in place;
the weak blows of the hammer;
its slippery grip;
the paint on the wall;
the humidity of the room;
global warming;
the lightbulb over the frame;
its filament;
the electricity wires running in the walls;
the wind;
or his own incompetence. All he knew was that he needed to
find a broom, before
his cat injured her paws.