I do have grandparents, you know. And though I don't think I'll evuh EVUH be in the mood to wear that Bible belt again, I could allow that a transcendent, immortal being might choose to interact with americuns (and if your faith is boldly condescending enough, that being might choose to interact with those foreigners, too.) And I will allow that this *if I keep breathing in through my nose this Mary Poppins way, without breathing out again, the wind will certainly change directions and we all know what happens then- no more spoonful of sugar or something equally upsetting* digression is an act of my own will. However! That aforementioned being might choose not to be a pooper.
Might, might, might.
I, on the other hand- lowly human being that I is- I have to go to the bathroom regularly or things get a mite uncomfortable. Nurses begin to take an interest in my bottom line. *yes, wow, that was hmmmm. ward of the state slowing down on these church sanctioned drugs or somesuch nonsense. seriously? we don't have anything better for this kinda sitch?*
Yeah, so to review:
Might, might, might & mite, mite, mite. Did I hear a suggestion that I shrink even more?
Weird. Truly. But I'm still Honest +
and I bet I'm still Popular. That's got to be worth something to somebody. Perhaps, me?