Of course I lost a bet!
Do you think a fearsome monstrous death lizard wakes up one morning and says, “Today looks like a good day for cross-dressing complete with thirteen inch stilettos?”
No, what happens is that a student brings me four goats and says, “Bet you can’t eat just one.”
The gambler in me takes the bet. The dinosaur in me loses the bet.
And this is what happens:
Is “haute couture” French for “mandibles of death” because that’s the only way that sentence makes any sense.
The only good thing about this lost bet? They’re piping Lady Gaga music out of my very severe shoulder pads.
Hey, even a fearsome predator like me can appreciate a little “Rawr rawr ah ah ah.”