Do you know those wiggly fruitsnakes that burrow in my great uncle three times removed's shoelace? Those little squeakers have eaten all my cupcakes. Oh, I just what to vomit that yummy remote control cheesecake once more. But, always remember that when rollerblading on flying sheep, dont forget your igloo. My sitterbaby likes to eat lazy chickens who are fed up with rasberry marbles. Too bad, I always liked ther minty foghorn smell that would erupt from their orafaces each morning when the cow rises in the east. The lamb always rises in the west, however. Take care not to confuse it with the all powerful Jackalope who chases that very lamb off into the sunrise at 7:00 p.m. each March fortythird. But those sheep, those are real touble. Or was it your mother? Oh, looks like I've lost my rasberrie's chicken's wonderful ink under smelly keyboards. Zonk Heezwoob is the name, NO POST-IT'S ALLOWED WHEN REVERSED!!! NoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It's all happening again! The fluffy feuding frogs are taking me away, mommy!