We don't have Wa-Wa's in New YorkNone in Massachusetts either, but they're all over the south.
Boston, eh? You a Red Sox fan?
Nope, not into sports at all. But if you start talking smack we're gonna throw down.
Massholes are loyal.
It's funny, this story happened twice. Little glitch on my current timeline I suspect. The first time it ends with Grovites Forever, but that's a bit obscure. Our NY Love's writing professor said that it's rude if your reader doesn't know what the fuck you're talking about. Ok, he probably didn't say fuck, but he did say the rest of that objectionable sentence. I gently disagree but acknowledge he may be on to something. For the record though, notice how I typed that all out, we'll likely come back to that. Anyway, when I read a thing that confuses me, when I find myself scanning faster to find when the author draws the curtains back fully, I call that engaging my curiosity and I quite enjoy it.
Maybe that's just me though.
She thinks it's a poem, and I am inclined to concur.
Sames.
Does she give me gifts too? Sir, she writes me poems. She writes poetry for me that references you. She writes poetry for me, that references you, that tells the story she shared with her Mama.
Does she give me gifts too?
There isn't enough room under the tree, and doesn't that feel so good?
Know what else feels good? Being grounded. I mean it's gone on for soooo long now and I really didn't do anything so terrible. I am totes a grown-up, I just had a wee bit too much wine and cosmos. Three, maybe four months now, grounded. Not even allowed to ask. I'm banned from abbreviations too. To be honest, see I wrote that all out, I'm surprised it took this long. Sometimes I'll just be like, "ROFLMAOPIMP bbq, ymmv, kwim Leon, peace". Once I was grounded for a whole summer, because my mother misheard Escapades as the Ice Capades and I should have known better. Whatever, that story has a jaw dropping plot twist, totes worth being grounded all summer.
