Dear Chittr. Do NOT come to my ghostlly Manor. I hath prepared a trully wretched evening breakfast for thee. Well and Trully fucked it up Big Time
They Jest Not, Tys Lyke Charcoal Upon A Platter. One Slyce Of Bacon I Just So Happened To Brush Wyth Myne Finger, and it Shattered Lyke Glass, and Left Sooty Stains upon myne Fingers And Bosom.
Forgot about it...
Thou Art So Very Attentyve to Most Thyngs, But A Meal Doth Break thy Streak. Sad!
Sad. My shame shall be eternall
It is lliterally So Over :P Notice this face I have conjured so as to evoke a pllayfull tone.
Pray, Forgyve Me, I fear I hath Become A Pioneer Upon The Plains of Hanger...
A journey upon such pllains is fraught with perill. I shall make an attempt anew and this time not Fuck It
...Yes dear. This is Wise councill, I recognize.