Smeagol is Free!
A hermitudinal view of...stuff...


Thoughts: A Cavie Christmas

A three-hour-plus road trip with John Letoto is almost assuredly going to result in the tale of a certain Wendy's being told. Miss Stephanie is most certainly not getting married, especially since kissing is gross. Doesn't the rest of the world drink Christmas Milk, too? Speaking of milk, would you mind telling us landlubbing civilians about that, Pastor Cavie? Yes, I called my mother. Tuna is amazing. It still feels weird to open presents with the sun already up. It's Sean Foot...who else could it have been? Methinks Pastor Cavie's good standing with Panera Bread was delicious. I can't believe that hard-won bread almost got left behind! I feel as though I should have a greater appreciation for music boxes, but I don't quite remember why. Momma Cavie's gonna kill me. The Tall People are like male and female versions of each other. This post is proof that I don't have to mention coffee in every blog post. Wait...darn it. Oh...the ribs...the ribs! I think Jeffrey enjoys calling me John Boy almost as much as my sisters do. Why does good food exist? Because...

posted by Bolo | 11:25 PM
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