My apologies, dearest children. (Don't argue that you're older than me; we are all kids.) I misplaced the Foam Cabinet. I was meaning to post as soon as I found the Foam Cabinet, but the Foam Cabinet has yet to show. I think the Foam Cabinet is getting tired of things relating to me.
I think the Foam Cabinet is fed up with:
-The scent of vanilla on my skin. (Perhaps the Foam Cabinet has vanilla allergies.)
-My ever growing fiery red hair. (Perhaps the Foam Cabinet no longer recognizes me!)
-An abundance of disturbing images on my skin. (Perhaps the Foam Cabinet thinks I'm a maniac who will grow up to become a serial killer.)
-The friends I keep company with. (Perhaps the Foam Cabinet misses SoccerBoy#13, Tweety Bird, the WRHS posse, and all Georgians big and small. After all, the carbon-based life forms here are quite the wackos.)
-Being used. (Perhaps the Foam Cabinet doesn't appreciate being opened and talked about all the time.)
That all being said, I think I'll make it clear that if the Foam Cabinet does not return in due time, I will construct a contraption with hubcaps, rope, windshield wipers, and railroad spikes, among other various object found in Washington State.
(That was a threat, Foam Cabinet...)
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