Lucy and cookies sitting in a tree, k-I-s-s-I-n-g. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes an abrupt and a terrible miscarriage. Then comes blame, then comes despair, two hearts damaged beyond compare. Cookies leave Lucy and take the tree, d-I-v-o-r-c-e! ~Send help. What would I look like as a shark? Girls are like apples on a tree. The best ones are on the top of the tree. The boys don't want to reach up and grab the high up ones because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt. Instead they get the rotten apples on the ground, they are not as good but ok. So the apples at the top think something is wrong with them, when in reality they are amazing. They just have to wait for the right boy to come along, the one who is brave enough to climb all the way up to the top of the tree. Sleeping is my drug, my bed is my dealer and my alarm clock is the police. I am not saying it was meth. I beat my sister, at monopoly. Can I have a hug? \(>w<)/
Master... You seem... Strangely... Strange. Like not your normal strange, but stranger than strange is normally strange. It seems strange that I am concerned about you being strange, but strangeness is like drugs. Addictive, fun, and consuming. Except drugs aren't fun. I feel really awkward for comparing drugs to strangeness, and that is not strange. This post is strange. Strange is a strange word, almost as strange as this post. ~Strange things are happening... SOS. Save our strangeness.
