Sprouts from Brussels, I am green with envy that you taste so sharp. I try to dress that way, but the public has yet endeared to me in a toga-tarp.
Have ever seen a cat nipped to where they jink and mew with glee? If I were a bunny, I would eat a bowl of you for breakfast —of course, as well, with a cup of Kermit tea.
Oh, yes, cabbage bulbs, you are the catalyst for both my binkies and my thinkies. Pish-posh re your vitamins; I am inspired by your flavour—truth: sans sarcastic winkies.
Say, do you feel more hesychastic in a colander under a stream of cool or do you prefer sweating off the small stuff in a seasoned, boiling pool?
Meteorologist man says bombogenesis is on the way, so it looks like you will not be joining the sheila and I in the park. But, hey, you know, I am out of popcorn, so please come join us for a Netflix picnic. Do you still taste smokily sexy in the dark? ; )