Hey, How’s It Goin?
I find your lack of lack quite full filling. Kind of like creams in a puff, goo in a donut, feathers in a cap, waters in a tap, martians in a boat, streamers on your coat. But when did all this become so lackity mack clack plaque? Oh dear, I forgot! That’s a sore spot for you. Missing out on the Dolphin Plaque by 2 milliseconds because water doesn’t roll off you like the duck that won. My opposite of good. I looked up bad, but all the synonyms were too long and my fingers are too tired to write big words today.
We can’t be under the snow because it’s on the ground. If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, because it’s far too time consuming to tell you a thousand times so I’ll spend all that time looking up the math symbol for “times a thousand” and tagging it on to everything I say ever. From now unto infinite. You can’t go “in” to infinite it’s already “in” finite. You must sneak in on the gravitational up swing on the backside of a U.
The traditional savvy omnipresent flugle. You heard me. That’s what we’re calling it and I won’t hear another word of your traditional sophisticated evermoving gleck. It fails the tongue roll test and the last thing any of us needs is the Sophists sue’ing us again. They always show up in court wearing those colored wigs and pose in rainbow form. It’s SO distracting. How on earth the ones in the lower sides of the rainbow hold those stances for so long we’ll never know but suffice to say there will be no sophistcated wording in our Master Plan. Thus Sayeth the Flugle. Conform of Die. You won’t be assimilated though, there’s no room in the In Finite.
hava happy!
Love & Hugs & Masterful Mugs,
~ Michelle