i sent you an email to let you know of my existence, but it came back saying you were out of the office until March. i want a job like yours when i grow up. in the meantime, i'm looking forward to meeting you. mom says you make a mean tinned macaroni cheese. you'd fit in well here - Kraft mac and cheese is the national dish. it comes in a box though, so making it is a bit more technical than perhaps you could manage?
send me an email and we can continue our conversation in private. i want to know what mom and dad were like as teenagers, so i know how best to wind them up in later life
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i must say that i'm bitterly disappointed with your blogging performance as of late, joel my boy. anyone would think you actually have things to do other than sit around drooling, ga-ga-ing, chewing your hands, crying, pooing, doing the odd wizz (especially when the nappy is OFF), crying, making gurgling noises, biting your mother (and occasionally drinking some milkies), crying, learning to coordinate your arms and legs, growing hair, sucking your father's nose (gross), developing the neuron complexity and fine motor skills necessary to articulate words, crying, and generally more pooing. come to think of it: it's no wonder this isn't updated more often! i feel exhausted myself. i can't imagine how your parents must feel...
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