The One With Woodchucks, Seashells, And Pickled Peppers.

Dear Lover,

I like alliteration.
A lot.
I sometimes slip it into my scribbles.
And by sometimes, I mean, a whole lot of the time.
But "sometimes" went along with the whole alliteration concept, you see?

I blame poetry.
And Stan Lee.
And whoever first diagnosed OCD.
I'd blame Mother Goose too, if she had rhymed with the other three.

(Watch out.  It seems I have a fascination with rhyming as well.)

Love,
Me.