Somehow I haven't written a scrap of a word here in the month of April. For that matter March was a lost cause as well.
Since March had at least a sporting chance, I'll blame April. April ate all my words. Bad, April, bad. Come on now, spit them back out. All of them. Don't make me use my "I mean it or else..." voice.
Yes, even the one's you've got hidden in your cheeks that you are saving for later.
Now go to bed and don't come back for another 11 months. What AM I going to do with that darn April. So uppity, so full of... I see you! To bed. NOW.
Okay, fine you can have a glass of water first.
If you'll excuse me I must give all these words a good scrubbing down by the river and hang them out to dry for a while. Hopefully they still fit.
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5 comments:
FUCK April.
At least we have twitter. ;-)
Adorable. You're so "dad."
But Faustus, I don't *want* to fuck April. She's not my type, at all.
April is a heinous bitch. It's a known fact.
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