There once was a work project dear, which Puddin was needed to steer. They succeeded, at last, but it was late; he was gassed. Write a post now? Oh, no...time for beer!

The Year of My Socks, Two-Thousand and Eighteen
There once was a work project dear, which Puddin was needed to steer. They succeeded, at last, but it was late; he was gassed. Write a post now? Oh, no...time for beer!