this is very random. there, i warned you. i was sitting here, responding to a poem, and relised that my breath smells like carrots. suprise of suprises, i ate a TON of carrots for dinner. yeah... so i got this idea to write a poem, an ode, actually, to carrot breath. i think it's time to go to bed, bulldyke, you're sounding more than a bit stoned. which i'm not, but that's what pms does to me. bye all.
"Go to Hell. I'll meet you there." ~Wolf