(Sure, mom says that I’m the goodest girl in the whole wide world, but how does she actually know? Did she look me up in some sort of global goodness index? Was there a fact-finding trip I’m not aware of?)

More funny than cute
(Sure, mom says that I’m the goodest girl in the whole wide world, but how does she actually know? Did she look me up in some sort of global goodness index? Was there a fact-finding trip I’m not aware of?)

Enemy agents are watching, so I must be brief. At exactly 3:33 tomorrow, you will approach our operative under the Eiffel Tower and attempt to tell a knock-knock joke. He will furnish you with a forged passport and one-way ticket. Once off the train, proceed to the nearest cafe and order a “gooseberry muffin, hold the poppy seeds.” You will be given a plain box containing an orb. You must bring this to the leader of the resistance, a man known only as The Tongue.

It don’t get any better than this. A cozy fire, my human making me a snack in the kitchen, and me claiming his bed.

Ah, who of a certain age can forget those carefree days of youth, bicycling home as fast as the wind, bursting through the front door and plopping down just in time to watch everyone’s favorite, The Mickey Mouse Chub.
