"He'll sit there and go, Dipsy... Po... Dipsy... Po. I honestly don't think he knows colors. Just Teletubbies."


Non-Love Letter to Blogger.

Dear Blogger,

Thank you for being a whore and eating three of my posts in the past week. I hope, sometime after I send a rude, carefully-worded email to the service help, you shape the hell up.

Have a Romy and Michele Day!*

* this is how La Mere genuinely signs her emails.

P.S.: I don't suppose I can leave you all without some words of wisdom from Madame, so here you go, dutiful readers (unless, of course, Blogger, the cannibal, eats this entry.) :

"I like the IGA milk, but not the Kamp's milk. It tastes too much like cow for me. It's too cowwy."

"Well, maybe someone takes a bunch of ketchup packets from McDonald's, and sits at home, squeezing them into the bottle. Everyone has their hobbies."


Blogger mai babbled mindlessly...

Ugh, I know. Blogger apparently decided to semi-kill Molly's entire account, and she can't post or comment.

1:24 PM


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