Our Rose Mistress has deferred her duties long enough…turning up her little rosy nose, spurning the laity’s pleas. Oh, the audacity of that tabloid tabby!! Her thornier aspects make one aware how becoming her appellation is… Rosie, the senticous snubber. Although, her mental departure coincides with the fallow understandably symptomatic of the calenture beleaguering our utopia. Who, in all of meow manor, could have predicted that all it would take to reduce the maiden’s ginormous brain to sludge was introducing her to an oppressively arid climate? Woe upon Wosie, that finicky finagler. When the day arises that entreaties turn to sweet treats, may she again relish in repartee.

daily augury: dessert fork
current mood: happey
for your listening: Sucrette - travel star
critter companion: Spotted-tail Quoll

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