Dear Ms. E visits us a couple of times in a week. If I was in my childhood, I would find the pain of witnessing her entrance similar to the bitterest medicine my Mom gave me for stomachaches. It's fascinating that her entrance works in quite the reverse: my tummy squirms, screams, squeaks. Still, Ms. E is tap, tap, tapping into the class.
Ms. E is a furiously blushing, deliciously healthy thing, with - if the lights are not so dim - pinkish cheeks.
Our void, shell-like lives, are graced with lessons of Humanity. The syllabus covers a variety of topics, amongst which are: How to be Human, Hoist Humanity and Hark! Humanity Hovers.
With a husky, rather breathless voice, Ms. E unearths the piling wax in our ears. Her presence lingers, like the aftertaste of stale bread or fusty fish curry.
It's a presence of the sort that balloons and balloons and never pops.
Verdict: Gag her and bury her. Let Peace returns.
7 comments:
You forgot the childhood tragedy thing..
Hehe
Will have another go: "Potty Training into Pomposity". Heee.
Lol...
The tap, tap,tapping is so true........She guarantees of sweetness on the outside........excusez-moi!!!she is just one big, fat pompous ass who reeks of love for herself!
That's done in practice of euphimism.
But you've undone it well enough.
Reeks of love? Charmant.
jus noticed something....ahem ahem(throat clearing)
it is not *let peace returns*......it is either let peace return or peace returns...he he:)
Oh, oh...how silly of me. *blush*
Post a Comment