A northern monologue
Snickers the Poetic Elf of Flat-Country Slap-Happiness?
I just about fell out of my chair trying to determine if you'd been eaten by a shark or turned into an elf. The ears gave it away. You look frighteningly adorkable. (No, that is not a typo.)Remind me to show you a picture of the gay elves of Estevan sometime. Almost entirely worth making a December road trip for because nothing quite says "Christmas" like a phalanx of gay elves pole-dancing down mainstreet. I kid you not.Also, thesis has been handed in. One more hurdle leaped with my usual grace. (Careful.)
Bwaa-ha! Self portrait of the...haha...not-so-young-Ma-am...Hee-hee-hee :-)
har har G. I'm surprised you didn't comment on the elf's hairy chest.I decided not to post H's pictures of me and Watson's 25 foot tall, 1500 pound Santa. In lieu of a lap, I sat on Santa's boot. Not a good look.Congratulations on the thesis, Paula Jane! Adorkable! Ha.Nice to see you're back from your trip, Anita.
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