There was something, in everything about you…
[Note: I found this draft from a few months ago, and have decided to post it. Otherwise who KNOWS what could happen to the balance of the universe.]
It’s been a long, pathetically hard week full of dragged knuckles and dried tears flaking off my rosy cheeks. I’m back in school after a delicious break of t-shirts and Minnesota sun. Like, jammie t-shirts worn around the house hermit-like (replete with snail-like hallway pacing on occasion). For I am antsy and spring stuck its beautiful nose into the door frame of my life, and almost came into the room before winter’s (hopefully) final blow. The always relevant question: have I been cooking? Actually, the past few days, yes. Essential figures from le family are gone and I fill in, like a sous chef who gets the kitchen to herself while the artiste is out to play. Or the mice and the cat analogy could work. Mainly I sit around thinking about how much fun it’d be to eat.
Like, and stuff.
And then I continue to sit my butt down in front of this awfully-buggy-for-a-new-computer and fry my eyeballs. I reek of failed puns, obscene jokes and references only I would find logical. And funny! Not a great way to continue my pookums, my little love bud, you, dear blog. I have spring fever. I need flowers. And fruit. And grass with ookie little bunnies wunning awl orvrah tehy plance.
Because I would be happy with that. That’s what I’ve been driven to. Ookie little bun-buns that scrawmper w’all ovhar ta yahred. My brain is soft. Everything else too harsh, baby talk prevails.
Oh also? Yeah, I’ve mentioned it before. But I feel the need again. since I’m talking about love and mush here…
PRUNES!
