Stampy is the little kid that belongs to one of the people who lives upstairs. Stampy visits on Wednesday nights and every other weekend. We can tell Stampy is here from hearing the constant thumping on our ceiling/their floor. Stampy loves jumping, running and rolling around.
While on my sick-sofa today, I drew a picture of Stampy on the iPad.
I’m guessing Stampy is a chubby little boy. He wants to be a cowboy someday, so he constantly wears cowboy boots. He loves wearing bags of oranges tied to his clothing because they help him make a louder thump when he jumps from the sofa and lands on the floor. And he’s wearing a Michael Vick jersey because his dad’s a moron.
Even though Stampy’s only here a few days a week, his half-sibling Squawk was born about four months ago. I can’t wait ’til Squawk starts walking.
It could be worse — at least I don’t have neighbors who raise chickens.
“I think I’ll call him Stampy.”
— Bart Simpson