Note: I WILL be putting up a new pole for what will happen next in 'Dear Puck', so watch out for that!
Dear Puck,
It's been like, what, a week since I've written in you? Stupid Clockwork confiscated you. He said that I needed to stop writing in you and get some bedrest. To be honest, I outta kill Flauge. I mean, gawd! This stomach wound REALLY hurts! I think I'll be able to get out in about three days at the least. The hospital was smart enough to realize that their food was going downhill...so this time, I got...
1. French Bread
2. Rainbow pudding (My favorite!!!)
3. A GOOD hamburger
4. Sprite
Yumm....
You wish you could eat that. Wait...you can't eat, because you're a journal and have no mouth...
...
...
...
...
...
HAHAHAHAHA!
Sucks for you.
Non-inanimane objects are awesome. Well, actually, journals don't have to go to school.
Ack. Now I sound like one of those lame language arts people....I'll stop now before I wierd myself out again.
And by
again, I mean I spent about 20 minutes laughing at my tail. And then I passed out. Stomach wounds do wierd things to a person.
Wolf.
You know what I mean.
Well, I'm gonna go to sleep now, because the hospital lets you be lazy, and I am ever so lazy...so lazy wolves sleep. M'kay.
Sleepy time, Puck.
GO AWAY!
Sorry, mood spaz.
Byeya, Puck.