( continues...) off of street by 7:00am tomorrow, if want to use car, because street to be resurfaced. Me tell mother me sick, and about car situation. Mother say she'll stay at her sister's. Me say she can come here, but maybe happier at sister's.
Me have very traumatic time transferring crickets from tied-shut plastic bag into case. Me hate bugs.
Me call mother back, to make clear mother welcome here. Mother didn't think was welcome here. Mother crying.
Me die now. Don't send money. Is not hoax.
How about send laugh?
edit: which came out very, very wrong. Decidedly not meant in an "at you" kind of way.
Oh, you poor thing.
{{{Cindy}}}
Sending chocolate and cake and magic crickets you don't have to touch, as well as dry pants, magic ATM cards with unforgettable passwords, and more chocolate. And flowers for your mom. (Unless they make you sneeze, in which case she'll have to make do with chocolate.)
Poor bizarro Cindy.
I think I'll send her some money.
How about send laugh?
edit: which came out very, very wrong. Decidedly not meant in an "at you" kind of way.
At. With. Whatever.
Sending chocolate and cake and magic crickets you don't have to touch, as well as dry pants, magic ATM cards with unforgettable passwords, and more chocolate. And flowers for your mom. (Unless they make you sneeze, in which case she'll have to make do with chocolate.)
sniff
You understand me, so well.
I'm just ground down from being sick and/or injured for two months solid. Enough is enough. Everything has been relatively petty, and even Scott's Lyme seems on the mend. I'm just fed up. In a ground down way.
I'm just fed up. In a ground down way.
Right there with you, babe.
Cabana boys! I *knew* I forgot something!
Ah, deer loward, Cindy. You poor thing. Yes, unsneezeable flowers for mom, chocolate for you.
