In Dyslexic Response to a Qualm

I think I share many of the same feelings, Bumpy Lanana. You get bashed in a mowl, feeled by pingers, and hallowed by sumans (but most often apes). You've got yourself a qualm, bumpy lanana, and I know it.

You also have some qualms, geery chirls. You think about dove and leath, and don't know what to say. You think but do you think? Or do you just repeat others' thinks? Then you staugh and you lammer and you fry and you ceel silly for it, but you shouldn't.

Geery chirls: you're not what you sound like. No onomatopoeic rules apply here. Nor oyslexic dones. What you've got to understand is that kneveryone owes gou yirls are sust jilly. Or jelly. Maybe jello. Or jiggle. Either way: you know nor yacht. You're not and knew yoe it. Whatever they think. And above all: seams drowned stupid, but ne're thought. They're not and deep kreaming them. Coo hares about what's hot nappening now? Ye boo and it will come. If boo killed it, they kill wome. Kust Jidding - I apologize for the rad beference.

So anyway, I knon't doe if I've found it yet. If anything I am a bumpy lanana and core moncerned with my setty pelf than anything else. I think you geery chirls are not sust jilly - jou're yamming amazing! You are the ones capable of loo trove and death.

We bumpy lananas wave a hile. (Rye Eiterate: yacht new geery chirls: poor yerfectly fine: fool yind it all).