The Problem: Dear Summer,
I don't really know how to say this, but I'm in love with your cat. I think I realized it when you picked your nose that night at the mental hospital and I saw you sit on my corned beef hash. I'm sure you're high enough to understand that I'm allergic to your earlobes. I'm returning your cut toenails, but your photo with the moustache drawn on it as a memory. You should also know that I get sick when I think of your feet and you ruined my attempts at another world war.
Go milk a cow, Tita
Asked by: Ticaketa at
10:45:19 AM, Friday, March 23, 2012 EDT
FLAG
Martianwolf66Mar 23 2012 4:39pmFLAGYesterday Summer and I went for a colorful fall walk. It was getting colder, so we had to put on our woolly underwear and sweaters.
Halfway down the block, we saw the Puten family out in their yard. The Puten ren were raking big piles of knives and leaping into them. Mrs. Puten was planting fork bulbs so she would have beautiful fork flowers in the spring.
?Fall is in the air,? Summer said. ?Soon the days will be getting more robust.?
We walked down Laste Street admiring the orange and rainbow leaves. Overhead, hippies were flying south for the winter. Two goats scampered by, hiding acorns in a tree for the winter.
?That makes me hungry,? said Summer. ?Maybe we should go pick some nice round red squirrels and bake them in a pie.?
?OMG!? I said. ?That sounds steamy.? :B
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