Dandilions

I have a best friend. She's beautiful and charming and sweet and cute and deep and amazing. She makes friends quickly because of these things and is one of the most amazing friends anybody could ask for. She listens well and thinks before she speaks. Mostly. :P I love her, so I'm going to write her a short story on here the way I used to. And I hope I can make her smile, because I haven't made her do that in a few days...I'm sorry..

There once was a giraffe named Freckles, who had no spots on his skin. He was tall and yellow and lovely, and was extremely and obnoxiously thin. Freckles was a lonely giraffe. He didn't have too many friends. This is where the story stops rhyming because Freckles hates poetry. He's a lonely chap and wears bright red caps, and to Taylor his love he does send. You know, they're engaged to be married. Tay hasn't told her hippo beau yet. But Freckles is a dashing dude, and Harold's about as screwed as he can get. Freckles is one sexy animal. He always wears knee high socks. And when he's a grouch, he sits on the couch, instead of throwing big nasty rocks. Freckles also likes sodas, and staying up til three AM. And in many respects (except for his neck) he's just like Taylor's best friend. Freckles is going now to talk to Harold, and Harold, he's gonna be mad. But now that this rhyme has run out of sweet time, I'm sure Taylor Christina is glad. :D

I'm sorry I've been mean, Tay. I love you.

That's domestic abuse XP

Yes you do. Secretly.