Hey, How’s It Goin?
Hither and thither will make a fine tither without any whither to stable the mither. I know you know what I mean. You’ve been here too and a time or two since you went to the Balkans for buttercream. I thought you had lost your marbles and were trying to make more out of a door without any lore you caught shiny tin pizza puffs sitting in a row lying down to hide from you acting like a foe. Stop throwing marbles at pizza puff’s and you’d have some left for breakfast. Duh! Everyone knows. Everyone but you, ya silly goofaloofapoof!
The timeliness of the correspondence cannot be understated so I shall highly overstate it in lieu of pending penguin puffs greying out the thunderbolts of lightening – very very frightening! – and now it’s in your head. Days on end you’ll be banging like Garth on the bongo’s like a chimpanzee. Oh that ain’t workin! BONK!
Pardon. The music module got interlaced with the metallic transmission that was supposed to have been erased by the giant magnet but clearly its faulty behavior is going to have it toss in the active volcano from a helecopter for rebirth. Yes, yes, I know how dangerous that can be. Last time the hele went down with the magnet and we lost a good bird. Luckily the lava-proof suit allowed the mission team to slide down mountain like a water park ride. Crazy bastards wanted to go again! No! Emphatic NO was the answer. The government is so very against any fun. Sigh.
I hope you received the transmssion we sent. It was written in pudding letters inside the giant donut we sent. I told them that wasn’t going to work. Please tell me I was wrong. To re-send is the ultimate in peril to our baking team. The chocolate coating nearly sent them all to the hospital from the fumes they weren’t allowed to consume. Luckily Joe had s’mores waiting at the end of their shift. I haven’t a clue how he got away with a garbage can fire to melt the marshmallows. Last time Juniper tried that we lost all the hardware to the ceiling sprinklers. He’s a master of his craft, for sure!
over and out,
love & hugs & slimey slugs, … oh! I promised no more slugs since we discovered your allergy!
love & hugs & mystical jugs,
holding the fairy dust,
kissing the pugs,
I know I promised you’d never have to kiss animals but for the sake of the poem I couldn’t well have you kissing kugs, mugs, or glugs, now could I? get over it, they aren’t real
love & hugs & something that rhymes with hugs that doesn’t grouch your pouch,
~ M