Okay, Okay. It seems the great one has had a sore spot for a certain intolerable "disturbance" for some time now. In this nice world we created for ourselves and those who care about us, there has been a slight invasion. We'll just call them ..... the alliance or..... the unamericans...or the heck with the name callings, I like the Bobs.
The Bobs are dead set enlightening us occasionally and telling us the world is going to die. The Bobs give us a garden and micromanage the life out of it, literally. The Bobs have produced a literal nutcase of an offspring. The Bobs whisper echoes of discontent where our ears cannot reach.The Bobs voted for Obama in states that they don't live. The Bobs sabotage our laundry. And most unsettingly, the Bobs seem to know all our private doings and speakings.
After great discussion of this calamity, the great one has convinced me it is neccessary to move the island. I shall more on this later.
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Hey Greg it's Brittany...hope you don't mind I check out your blog....anyways sounds like these "Bobs" need to get a life! "Bobs" in general are kind of annoying...blah! So any ideas on where you guys would relocate the "island"? Are you guys on a contract? Food for thought though: Move closer!! We like hanging out with you guys!! (Plus your our only adult friends...lol!!)
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