Fang, Fang. I Love You. I Looooove

Maybe He Was A Good A Good Whitecoat—like Jeb. And Maybe The Moon Was Made Of Cream Cheese.

It Was A Pretty Complete List. The Kind Of List One Makes When One Cannot Fall Asleep Because One's Thoughts Keep Swirling Through One's Brain Like A Bunch Of Sparrows On Crack.

As A Maternal Figure, I Always Try To Keep The Flock Safe, Of Course. But I Admit, It Did My Heart Proud To See The Instant Blood-lust Pop Into Gazzy’s Blue Eyes And To See Little Angel Automatically Tense Up And Get Into Fighting Stance, Ready To Rip Someone’s Head Off. They Were Just So — So Dang Adorable, Sometimes.

Men Suck, Even Imaginary Ones

Congratulations. The Fact That You're Reading This Means You've Taken One Giant Step Closer To Surviving Until Your Next Birthday.