Bloglander

I come through frequently, not because of my love of fried chicken but
instead to see you, with the tiny bun of gold hair. You seem to be packing
orders each time I come through the drive thru. I wish for once that you
were at the window. It seems like you're the only one working hard, and
with your knees? That seems unfair. You love joke? We can catch a comedy
show? Hope to see glowing complexion soon (bareminerals?). Love, your
Chicken King