To all of my Word Press friends it’s always good to be with you again, but I need to make my self clear! in some of you this will conjure fear! because of the things we share! we cuss scream and swear.
Yet my major point of contention, naturally with your permission, I will identify particular transgression, I make no exceptions. It’s when the bogeyman lurks! them damn brownies have gone berserk! a half hour late walking into church.
Now I don’t consider my self to be the prince of prophecy, their’s a specter of speculation in my reality, but when the leprechaun reneges on the gold, the legends in our fairy tales have been oversold, the potency in the power of my patients it about to fold.
I seek nether to scare or scold nor would I try the tricks of the Internet trolls, who are as bad as road rage when it unfolds. We at Word Press must be watchful then weary, that pixie dust can be itchy, my medication makes me twitchy.
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