From a chihuahua. Sure, why not? Every gay already owns one of these anyway, amirite, boys? *Up top*
Just in case you’re wondering, I can’t dance. At all. The downside of growing up in the suburbs is that you’re instilled with the idea that standing in one place and nodding noncommittally while leaning side-to-side is considered dancing. BUT NOT. ANY. MORE. Thank you, El Willy, the dancing chihuahua. You have shown me the light. And you’ve taught me a dance move that takes full advantage of my stupid, doofy velociraptor arms. Everybody flamenco!
Why you can trust Xtra
