Woofings, My Lovelies,
I want to just send out some biscuits (axually, they’re my famous Scones!) to all of you that are kindly signed up to receive my word herding… (Node: When I am habby, I am far more diggity-doggish… Pleeez check the manual for transmigration.)
I wanna say Fangks, for the mammaries. And I meat that, censorly. I know Grapplitude is good for the heal-th… Not sure if MY graspitute is good for YOUR hellf, but I am willing to take a chant.
As a highly excitable dog, I sometimes fine me jumping around the room, furry all standing up, shattering the grass windows and pudding the room into a form of dogma (also dishurray) as I am trying to SIT! GO SIT! back down to type (this takes thyme, my friends, as it is a Hunting Peck method, using two toenails). I realized, with Mara’s help (waggie tails to you, Mara!), that repeating what I fink about all this jabbing and stabbing and giraffine and all like that, is mostly already gnome (as opposed to Ungnome) to most of yez. In udder words, you all ready got it.
So, instead of barking my fool head arf repeatingly (I shant Parrot, it’s fowl) while in a state of agitational friendzy, and probably just idling to your miscomfort, I yam going to amend my ways, and maybe also amend that one sock (I named the sock “BILLKLAUS”) and it’s ALL chewn up, all fraggled and bedraggled, and shreddled—take that, you psycho nutmeats!). I shall mend my weighs wiff more time in a cheerful moon. This is butter for me, and butter for thee. Vote wiff your tails, waggie or no.
So today, I give you a pome. I give it wiff Luv and Grabitude. Tamale I will just woof to myselt, a looooong hoooooowl of all the thinks I’m grapeful for, url-y, the very flush think in the morning. You mush do your own lisp, if you want one. Don’t you fink it’s kind of cruel, pudding an “s” in the word “lisp”?? The following program is a Pottery Block… funny how I can spell butter in a Pottery Block!
A Speck of Dust It only takes a speck of dust to make you close your eyes It only takes a tiny pin to pop a balloon I'm foraging for a bit of string to tie my life together I keep sneezing from all the peppery things I say There is time that was And time that will be And the time of here, immediacy There are people past And people to be There is you, and there is me What better chance To show what we are? What better time To open the door? Stream of mindset Broken glass We make our decisions Based on the past