maybe love is like fairies– it goes away if you don’t believe in it.
I was going to say like Santa Claus but I don’t think you wake up to discover love is your dad who fixed the handlebars of your new bike to the axle while drunk on eggnog.
clap for love, people! don’t let love die!

no nothing’s wrong. I just have some horrible throat malady. and pimples. a passel of pimples.
pear pimples for hairy fishnuts.
and if you get that reference you win a cookie.