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Champions keep playing
until they get it right.
-- Billy Jean King



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23 Aug - 21:53
Praise God for this day... nice warm weather

20 Aug - 23:10
NP sweet mumkin. Your company is lovely. I apologize again for late respons!

15 Aug - 18:03
sorry for slow reesponses on forum..I am back

15 Aug - 17:48
Hewwo Sorry about VERY late reply, but thankyou for these quotes

I shall contribute. Can't remember who wrote this...

"Your religion should be less of a theory, and more of a love affair."

15 Aug - 17:43
“Success is nothing more than a few simple disciplines, practiced every day.”
― Jim Rohn

11 Aug - 20:12
“Don't ever give up.
Don't ever give in.
Don't ever stop trying.
Don't ever sell out.
And if you find yourself succumbing to one of the above for a brief moment,
pick yourself up, brush yourself off, whisper a prayer, and start where you left off.
But never, ever, ever give up.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich

11 Aug - 13:55
“Fall seven times, stand up eight.” – Japanese Proverb

27 Jul - 01:37
I love you

15 Jul - 02:38
here's to a new day xxxx

05 Jul - 17:51
birthday was great

Indogo articles

Thee Weather
Find more about Weather in Maldon, UK

13 - The Squeewee Chronicles - Dinner With The Queen
Finn C. M. Beauchamp
Sat 27 Dec 14
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As the magnificent gates opened up, the elongated auto-mobile rolled gently through them. Like biting a biscuit, the gates shut as quickly as they opened.

They stopped and parked(he can't remember where) and his door was opened. He was lifted onto a purple velvet cushion, which he was terrified of, as he had seen an earwig crawl on it 10 minutes earlier. He has earwigusphobia.

He was held on a noble hand, and Squeewee gazed at this colossal building. All of a sudden, homesickness crept in, and he imagined the entire palace made out of dominoes and glue. He imagined entire families of Squeebrews, being tired out simply by walking around the house...

...With billions of bottles of beetroot juice, all vintage and tempered to an earthy texture, and sweet marinated Turkish Dates, Squeebrews gorging themselves, sleeping, then gorging themselves again...

...Swimming in bathtubs, some filled with soup, some with cocoa, with croutons or chocolate flakes for bath toys... 

...Sizeable lumps of beetroot, fried over a hot flame with exotic spices, and diced okra, heaped with yoghurt and sprinkled with black pepper, followed by slice upon slice of cheesecake...

During this fervent fit of daydreaming, Squeewee had laid down, hands on his stomach, and legs in the air. His mouth was watering so much I'm afraid the pillow that he rested on was ruined for evermore.

Soon after, he came back into consciousness after being set down on a table. He gazed around. He didn't know it yet, but he was in the Royal Dining Room, sat next to the Queen Elizabeth II, with a translator that spoke 9 languages stood alongside.

As far as he knew, he was just on a gargantuan table, next to a woman with a shiny hat.

While he spoke in fluent Turkish, with the occasional Russian anecdote, I shall not go to the effort of translating everything. I shall simply present it in English.

"Where am I???"

"Buckingham palace."

Squeewee startled to his feet. "Your majesty!" he tried to bow, and fell over. 2 cups of tea and a few miniature biscuits on saucers appeared.

Squeewees minuscule eyebrows raised. "Thankyou very, very much, Your Majesty!" and he raised himself onto the side of the cup, and sat inside.

The Queen did not approve of this at all.

Squeewee briefly explained that it was a custom to bath in hot liquids, and then to partake of the said liquid. The Queen was quite put off her own tea.

However, quickly they found common ground. They were both born into royalty. But they were at opposite ends of the spectrum. While recent years had meant squeebrews did not have to scrounge, they still lived on a minimal diet.

Luxury was customary to the Queen. Luxury was an alien term to Squeewee. But, they both enjoyed music. Squeewee sang his poem, live.

Both the translator and the Queen were stunned. They chatted amongst themselves a bit, and then the translator told Squeewee;

"The Queen would like to offer you the job of Royal Morning Musician, and your responsibility would be to wake up Her Majesty every morning with your music. You would be free to wander throughout the day, but your bed would be here.

You are free to quit any time, and you do not have to accept this job. However, the moment you quit, you lose any rights to the Buckingham Palace. You are free to consult with your father. He is on his way, and will arrive tomorrow. It is your choice."

Squeewee was stunned.

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