This is proving to be one crazy year man. There's crisis after crisis after crisis after crisis. Fuckity-fuck-fuck totally. Imagine me sitting at my computer with electrocuted hair, pausing between typings to wrench out the burnt out (once-upon-a-time) tresses.
Dear Mr. Santa Claus,
I know I didn't bother with that pre-Christmas I-want-this-and-that letter to you last December. And I don't know if you also deal in luck, but I'd like some please. Some super-duper-trooper good luck and a few 24-hour days of utter peace. Make that a week at least. I've been very good for a long time now. I think I deserve it.
Lotsa lowe and big hug
Poojo
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3 comments:
hug
Dont trust Santa...he's hiding in his Guy Fawkes costume...
arrey arrey everything's gonna be ok!!
:)
*hugs*
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