That woman reaps the resentment she's granted.

Mother Lio, I am truly nauseated from the more-than-two-cents'-worth you yak to my delicate fragile ears every single damn day. If I answer Yes, I mean it. If I tell you No and it means its a Yes, it's hinting to you that you shouldn't be digging into something I don't wish your interference in. Quit prying into my blog, you irritating grandmother of poop.

I type a whopping an 80wpm pace while you're still clamped at the 55wpm you were stuck with twenty years back. Alright alright, points of information.

HageFive's pioneer anniversary's in an hour and fifteen. I shared my Wonka bar with the women of the house, poopy got a pinch of it too (I have another bar in the freezer awaiting my majestic chomp).

PS* Mummy, you are certainly welcomed to tag my comment box too. Click the numericals at every end of any entry. Hope to receive some response from your big chunky computer in the study. With love.