Your flight attendant has informed me that you need to laugh. No sir, you don't need to know why. Yes, we do carry peanuts. No, Bob does not like you.

Okay, my last post was very depressing. As is my life right now. But, for the sake of trying to cheer myself up, I'm doing a post about a rubber chicken. Yep! A chicken, made of rubber. *gasp!* Kaela, you got it for me. I thank you. I can't decide what to name him though, although, if it's laying eggs one would presume it was a girl.... oh dear. If I wanted to be sappy I could name it in Rosie dog's honor... but I don't think I will. It doesn't feel right. So, again. I'm going for cheery. *clears throat*

"Knock, knock" Says I.
"Who's there?" Asks you.
"Why did the rubber chicken cross the road?" Asks I.
"I don't know, why?" Asks you.
"Because he was running away from the radio active flies!!!" Exclaims me. *Starts laughing uncontrollably*
"..." Says you, or rather, doesn't say you.
"Is that Morris code or something for laughter?" Asks me.
"No... your an idiot." Says you.
"Really? Shucks, you are too!" Says I.
"I'm leaving..." Says you.
"Why?" Asks I.
"You freak me out." Says you.
"I try." Says I while making odd facial gestures.
"Uh... bye." Says you while leaving.

... (Great, now I'm using Morris code too. Thanks a lot you! I don't even know what I said...)