I'm sure that you're all wondering how I am writing this blog. My psychic powers are spooky, yes? Well, to satisfy your unbearable curiosity, I'll tell you; toxic waste. It was a normal day, wandering about the farm yard with the hens clucking, the ooze puddle oozing, Stella screaming and Dottie telling her to shut up. The baby barn swallows had long since left, and I needed something to do. Being a cat, a curious creature by nature, I decided that, "Oh! The toxic waste puddle will be a great thing to visit today!" And so, tail held high, off I went to inspect the puddle.
And I fell in.
Like all the cartoons and comics say, the ooze did the trick. There was a tingling in my paws, and looking down, I noticed that nothing had changed! Oh my goodness! Shrugging it off as just a side effect of falling into a puddle of unknown green goo, I went off to latch myself onto the window screen until someone let me inside. But once all the lights were off, and the Mother had gone off to bed, I found the blinking green light of the computer far more interesting than normal...
And that, my dear readers, is how I, Precious Twombly, learned to type. Or, I could just tell you the truth, and I am controlling the mind of The Teenager and she is typing this all out for me.
Your pick.
Purrs and Kisses,
-Precious
