I have to share a couple of recent animal-related comments that cracked me up.
I told a friend that I ordered a Cuban sandwich at a new restaurant over the weekend. He immediately asked whether it was pressed adequately, since we both agree the thinness can make or break a great Cuban. I replied no, sadly, and he shook his head. Then he said, "I hate it when that happens. I ordered one once, and they served it on bread that was so fluffy, it looked like, at best, a kitten might have just gently rested a paw on top for a moment."
I was talking with my sister about why her husband hates bees so much, especially fuzzy, lovable bumble bees. She summed it up succinctly and hilariously, and the issue is apparently the deception: "He doesn't like how they seem friendly, but then it turns out that their asses are knives."
It's the betrayal that stings.