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Guess what? I found a cure for the writer's cramp. Pretend it doesn't exist. I tried that. Just smile. I decided to go to Michigan and camp. I was chased by a bear and a moose for a mile. I rolled down a hill and then landed in a lake. Some ducks flapped their wings at me and flew away. I got up, went to my camper and ate some cake. My leg started to hurt. I thought of the writer's cramp. I got on my computer and avoided the writer's cramp. I did a few reviews and I liked all the stories that I read. A moose is outside my door. Why is he in the camp? It was a long day. The moose left. So, I went to bed. About my cure. I woke up and went to Kalmazoo. I am thinking about writing another book. I can do it. I think too much. I took off to go the near by zoo. A monkey threw his business at me and I got hit. I don't have a cure. I will just write and go to the cramp. The moose is back. I went outside to talk to him. I sat on a bench by Mr. Moose and the bench was damp. Mr. Moose told me to go write all I want. His name was Tim. A talking moose? I couldn't believe it, either. He is quite nice. The moose and I wrote stories. He is quite a good writer. I drink some Diet Pepsi and ate more cake and got some ice. Mr. Moose had to leave. He wished me well and he flew off in a glider. I will not worry about finding a cure for the Writers Cramp. Not at all. A talking moose. Camping. I am going home where I can sanely think. I will go to the writers cramp, write, sing, be happy and have a ball. I write and print off stories. I am happy. Now, my copier is out of ink! ** Image ID #2270962 Unavailable ** |