I've been 50-ized, and in less than 24 hours.
Belle, the new chick on the blog has been regaling me with tales of the Dreaded Monochichi's, while we waited for the 50th post and stuff.
Now, tell me, did it hurt all that much?
Speaking of Belle, and I just was, wasn't I? I feel sorry for her parents, unless she was raised by wolves, and then I don't, because wolves eat Farmer Brown's chickens, or do foxes eat Farmer Brown's chickens, yeah, I think it's the fox that eats the chickens, but not until it jumps over the lazy dog.
Quick recap.
Belle, sorry for her parents, unless wolves, chickens, foxes, lazy dogs ...
She writes some seriously demented stuff, sort of like how I would write if I were female and going through menopause.
Anyway, I laughed the laugh of a thousand rabid hyenas, and you will too.
Goodnight, and aren't you glad I'm posting again.
Seriously
I am allowed to say seriously?