Iz Sleeps Day
I’m in. We’re competing, right?
Six eight from the feline judge.
Author
Not soft, what cake through yonder window breaks?
Oh ghods…here we go again
Tis the fruit and duly soaked in rum
What did Shakespeare ever do to you?
Arise, fair yeast, and fluff the envious bread!
I kind of like dis one…is my young mind getting moldy?
Tis fat and ready to butter and grease!
It’ll be over soon, right?
But thou, old maid, art far more loaf than she.
That’s it, you’re done!
I come not to curry Caesar but to braise him
You what the who now?
The salad that cats dish lives after them.
The hell…
The broth is best infused with the bones
Wake me when it’s over.
So let it steep with Caesar.
He ain’t clever, he’s my brother.