How is it, exactly, that some people can get bored? For every one thing I get done in a day there are four more that I don’t have time for.

If Chekov’s Dog rings the bell in act one, he will drool in act three. I think?

Replace all instances of “Magic” in lyrics with “Patrick” and all instances of “Smile” with “Ryall” and maybe then I’ll bother to sing.

I just found a basket of seal eggs! Looks like Lumberjack Tom thinks I’ve been a good boy this year! Happy Canadian Mother’s Day!

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