|`=`|The Hostess|`=`|
Philosopher wanna-be, tea drinking, free child of God, born of Nigeria, raised in The States with a restless heart willing to fly. Give me a moment along with an intriguing verse and I shall bare my soul. Do not hold back, for neither shall I...
IMSA student
Aurora, U.S.A.
Digs
Futbol (soccer)
Real food
Art
Freedom of expression
Globe treading
The belief that we are one World under God
wishlist
Stay calm, always
Start my daily resolutions
Graduate from IMSA
Build others
Love and be loved in return
Live a Christian life
let's chat
1.8.05
It was a warm summer day and I was lounging in the parlour. Soon, I heard the demonic tunes of "Pop goes the weasel" and the cries of children running.
One child caught my eye as he ran towards the truck. He was a sweetly round boy, who cried to the others for them to have the truck wait for him, as his face started to resemble a plump cherry.
However little Timmy, as they called him, would never make it to the truck, and his immaculate white shirt would never taste the sweetness of that chocolate ice cream he ran so quickly for with his stubby little legs, for little Timmy is obese.
[Co-written by Lynda & Elizabeth I.]
Actually, Lyn and I were helping Mum start out an attention getter for her paper on childhood obesity. Naturally, as she and I started speaking out for such lines, the house was filled with laughter and I feel that it came out quite nicely.
tea is served @ 8:41 p. m.
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