After a long time, today I breathed again from eight in the evening till eight seventeen... now I must make like a wall plaster and study for mid semesters...
Oh well...
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Betty Foy... the mother of an idiot boy... Marvelously alive really... makes one wonder... A toast knave and then we turn in!
Does your poodle know you are here?
Thus far shall you come...
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2 comments:
found this through your sisiter's blog, and seems like both have a chronic penchant for using words that have a dozen syllables or more.
nice blog, though.
Why thank you... though it's more of an occupational disease than a genetic disorder...
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