Only Me... I was walking down to the tea

Only Me... I was walking down to the tea shop craving tea It's really cold here, white fluff falling on my hat and fluffy jacket. I opened the doors to meet a warm breeze.

But was met with a blast of hail and ice. With my eyes stinging I fell back into the room. London. The fanciful images of Earl Grey danced in my mind. I needed that tea.

I loaded my mule & embarked with a small retinue of accountants on the Pu Erh trail. In Yunnan province at the Menghai & Kunming factory & hid in a vat of raw Mao Cha. My skin shri

eked with agony but I kept my mouth shut. This stuff was cold as ice! My accountants were immune to cold but unfortunately for me -- "Someone's coming!" whispered the mule. "Surely

"breathe in, keep those calcutators between your knees. Noooww... divide by 42... andd.. out. Next, I want you not to think about thieving hippos." Dadaistic yoga sessions were

Offered at no charge for individuals found guilty of thought crimes. Folding stories was their life sentence instead of jail. They had it good, I think. The unlucky sods who were

locked in a writer’s block had to fold by trying to make a story out of only grammatical symbols as that was the only row of letters the block allowed them. Lots of thought crimes

going on. Finally, he decided to finish the story with ;) but when he tried to fold, the page reset. His mind was sick of it now. He wanted to

smile and wink, but the fold had become another circle of Heck. He spiraled lower and lower as the temperature rose. "You will never finish this fold," Satan assured him, sneering.