eat the blanket
Eat the blanket, don't want to eat the blanket. No, you don't want to eat the blanket. Go next door.
Wild dreams, must be the drugs. The room is vibrating... feel warm...
m.
posted by Maxo @ 11:26 PM
5 comments
5 Comments:
What a strange thing to say, Max-O. I would vote for DON'T EAT THE BLANKET.
Gnaw on your Dad's beard, if you're feeling peckish. It would be more nutritious.
Max-p.
The original words: "The floor is shaking... I am so warm..."
Feb. 18th, around 13:50.
A miracle!
I believe in Miracles and there are miracles, keep coming, good work.
MaMa
Hello sweet little boy,
I miss you! I've only seen you once, when your parents brought you to San Diego. We walked around on the sidewalks and I held your little frozen hand in your stroller, and I, for one, at least felt a connection.
Someday I'll see you again. I'll shower you with toys. I owe you several birthdays worth, and all the toys I've bought you have been waiting patiently to be given you, gathering in dustballs and value.
HEY MAXO!!
I'll come back and see you soon. I was talking about your prodigious piano ability (and your sister's as well, not bad; the Hays-Liu is strong in the ways of the Force) and I thought I should revisit the blog. It's nice to see that it's here.
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