FP2: Remeniscent Sin
A Little Sin.
Well Introductions always come first. Yes so here I am, all out and about. But please do be quiet, we all speak in tongues :) P.S: I'm not a hairy little troll. I'm the One-Eyed Giant-Dwarf....
Tarnished! The rebounding devils that make it crack have had at it. I speak only of that trashy thing which housed my only source of warming tingles. The pain will grow and I can't bear to go there. No, please no. I refuse to eat from its loins, that is beyond the beneath of me. Taking my trash can was more than it had beared. The dumpster gave me those good looks like it would happen there. I shall have to find home soon. Not a one person flower beater is looking for me anyways.
"...And It Was My Time..." - Lisa Stewart, 2006
“It’s Noice, It’s Different, It’s Un-Ewes-Yewl!” – Kath And Kim
Escaping into the cold, cold night I ran with my legs. They did stride so far and wide i had to ask, "But how did you eat the leaves?" Not replying, those snoots, they took me across a paddock. I feared for the sprites all bottled up. It is something of a shame. But them i came so frightfully close to a street. A darkened ally of which housed the very most interesting things of all. That's right; I say it like a beef sandwich, Thanks for the keys. Stopping all so abruptly, i had to slap those legs for the undeniably inopportune moment; i really wanted to see the corner over there. But then i saw a nice as nice little friend. I said hello and in the gust of the wind, i heard a never so nearly not there reply "Hi." So thankful for the return, i decided to house myself within its confines. Tearing an edge, i apologised like the kind-hearted twiglet that i most assuredly am and i screamed as we fell into the sleep. A white-hair sandwich offered itself to me... I gratefully accepted the use of a pillow in these harshest of times.
Speaking Squirrels, Nurture Of The Swine.
I've done it. I've gnawed through those devilishly trapping, wrapping straps. How dare they confine me to the raping pleasure of a forehead band! I will seek to cast the curse, but firstly I must get out; If it could be the very last thing I ever had done. Gosh, my letterbox will be in the overflow. I can see it with my eyes, sitting there, coughing and spluttering; letters jammed deep within it's orifice of doom. Such a gloomy day today. Last night the sky did cry so heavily and then that darn evil, yellow popping minion of heavenly eye blinding morning, did swing itself around and remove my cover. The shiny, fineness of it; Oh, it sickens me. I must make it right or the tulip sand will never bite!
To Make It Late For Polka-Dot Snorps.