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There once was a trout from Nantucket... Dear Googlers, I realize that, whoever you are, you really, really, really want Willow and Kennedy pictures and Spongebob Personality Quizzes. I, however, do not have the first one, and am thinking of removing the other. Think of something more original to google. Like panda porn. Whoever googled that was original, dangit. Thank you, Rachel. Yeah, so, my ankle feels a little better today. I haven't been running marathons on it to test it or anything, but just by walking around it hasn't made me topple over yet. I call that improvement. And mom's still pretty dang sure it's that fish disease. Whatever. I don't really want her to keep telling me that I have something called "gout." It's starting to freak me out. Interesting Sidenote: I could write a big long poem about gout, because, hey, a lot of things rhyme with it. Out, about, trout... okay, that's actually all I came up with. Shut up. It'd be a limerick. So there. The parental units are going out on a date tonight. Dad's treating mom to a night out on the town in honor of her birthday that is fast approaching. Nov. 12, folks. Be sure to wish the mama a happy birthday... as opposed to one where she stares in the mirror and complains about gray hair or wrinkles or something. 'cause those aren't any fun. For us. I think she secretly likes doing that, but it's not fun for us. This concludes today's announcements. Talk amongst yourself. <-Ghost-> |
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