Oh Phillie, you silly; we never breaking this therapy group ever. Like, when Ellie's fellow policemen don't like her and they recruit her as a mall cop, this blog shall still exist; when she talks about her eight kids and how atleast half have some sort of problem and the other half are ashamed of their doughnut-eating mall cop mom, we shall be there. And when Opie ends up marrying a boy whose name very closely rhymes with "cloyd", we'll be there. Even you Phillie; when you decide to divorce (or plot to kill, depending how rich he is) your husband, the therapy group will be hear to wipe those tears--of joy?--and also possibly decide on splitting up the family fortune. As for me... Well, the tunnel seems kind of dark. I'm gonna be one of those old ladies that ring doorbells and then run away cackling; and I'm gonna trick-or-treat even when I turn 43 and 3/4 years old. I think we all shall have successful lives.
Oh, & Phillie, I know that we shall play the wii at 68 years old in somebody's dead mother's basement. ;D
Lots of love,
Rosie ;)
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