Sometimes I can’t even spell about what goes on. Even talking won’t work right. I bet sand bugs don’t ever feel like this. I bet the sticker bushes don’t wake up sad sometimes. Even the creepy snake-fish that live in the ooze seem like they belong there. I just got bloody noses and a broken headset. I never even seen any cake pans to grease here. Grammy would say I’m sourpuss now and I guess she might be right. I better eat that last Townkie.
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