Cheese, oh cheese, I do loveth thee so.
Except when you formeth in my baby’s bottle when it rolleth under the bed and sitteth there for four days.
Then I don’t loveth thee so much.
At alleth.
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Oye cheesehead, September 20th?
Get on the ball dude, and write. The next thing you know the pot belly is back, too. Don’t do that to Dania.
And by the way, NaNoWriMo with me this year?