Books. Bikes. Boomsticks.
What this planet needs is a twenty-foot flying predator.
135 years ago When we were all in bed Old Mrs. Leary Lit a lantern in the shed When the cow kicked it over She winked her eye and said "There'll be a hot time in the old town tonight."
Seeing as it's MY day, I like to think that my arrival was presaged by that great conflagration. Just a little sumpin-sumpin to warn folks I was on the way. In about a century.
That's your third post by noon. Prolific, much?
Yours, too, phlegmfatale? My own grand entry occured on your sixth birthday. (Unless you achieved fabulousness later in life.)
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