Frere Jacques, Frere Jacques. Dormez vous, dormez vous.
Can you stop singing that song? You sing it too often.
I want to sing a song that I want to sing a song. Dragon poop and half a scoop of dried mug-wart leaves before stirring it twenty two times clockwise and five times anticlockwise.
Frogs are starting to come out around here you know.
The curtains here are pretty.
I rather dislike them myself.
Is that folder yours? I just want to know!
It’s rather dangerous to leave things like that you know.
If she wanted to keep that thing super safe, she wouldn’t want to put it there but because it’s there…
You aren’t making all that much sense right now.
I wish she could hold onto things a little better at the moment than she is right now and stuff but it’s the luck of the draw.
No-one is condoning violence I assure you. There is always something that riles people up and there are always people who act like that.
We just have to do the best things we can.
Purple unicorns are flying past the window of my mind.
Why is everyone being so poetic?
I think they’re just a little drunk.
Kids these days!
They’re not exactly children… I mean, most of them are middle aged me.
Why are things so tickily right now?
A lot of questions today. This is turning into a chat show.
She wrote a fanfic about a chat show.
That was like seven years ago.
Chameleons and chameleons with snakes and crocodiles.
The full moon’s face is beautiful and glitter falls from it.