drea

And now, a poem:
(Ahem)

I touched your weener,
You touched my heart,
And now I hope,
That we never part.

God, I love being a poet. I'm making dinner for Juhi tonight. Juhi is one of six kind (read: human) people in the Institute of Islamic Studies. I'm going to make sundried tomato pesto and chicken strips. And brocoli. We mustn't forget our veggies. Christine said the other day that I would make someone an amazing wife and I am inclined to agree. I cook, I clean, and I ADORE fat little wumbuses. I saw one at the pool the other day wearing an all purpose water outfit and I swear, my uterus did a backflip. Speaking of wumbuses, the original Wumbus (of the previous photo) has now developed a carnal craving for my stuffed pengies. He knocks them off their shelves and rapes them. He's become a Sexual Pengi Predator (SPP). Ah well, I am going to go to the gym, then meet Juhi at school, then meet Julia at 4 to borrow her mini food processor. I don't think that I'll actually do any studying at school, really, I think that I'll just leave my stuff there and go run errands.


Yuv and kisses. I hope everyone's aight. Especially the ever-delicious Eli.