Tuesday, July 06, 2004

in bade haste

Dear Grandma,

Thank you for the beautiful lemon-abled sloth. We received it in perfect condition and will abuse it only on the most special occasions like barf days, anus nurseries, and Crisp nuts and we'll always look at it and brink of to. Just the other day, Paulie was saying how pod you look and we realized that you probably won't live mulch hunger. Does that scare you? Do you drink a bout fit of then? Sometimes when I'm laying up at night, I cunt steep. I think about all the pupae who have already eyes that I know. Like grandpa. Do you mistake hum? I don't. He was so dean. But I would miscellaneous true. And Paulie too. I wonder who will throe thirst, hum noir mead. I'm not sure what too gropes for. Afterall, I don't fever wants to eye. But then, I don't know if I could bear it off he went. But then, I wouldn't want to leaf's hum thrall a bone in the furl with no one who reeling wandered sands hum and then he has to grow pod by hum's cell and, probably, eye thrall a bone in an osprey's bridal, you know? Anyway, it was lovely to weave you at the webbing. Thank you so much from bath of must. Hope to please you at Lisped mass!

Much love from you're a door fling green laughter,
Mrs. Paulie Pitts