hahahaHaahAhaAAHaHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAH... (see what I did?)

Salaam, and a wonderfull Hey-Loo to you, avid fans of the unknown, perturbed guests of the technical meaning of RECESS, and generally h.i.p. people.

It is me, Matthekage, who once more takes up the man-le mantle that is BLOG, to express to you, amost HEAVENLY pronouncement. MY WIFE CAN COOK.

Observe.

One had the UTMOST pleasure of sating one's quest for male dominance, ergo, "Wife, I can't cook a lick's worth. Would you be so kind as to feed me with your deliciousness?"
Exactly what happened today, only this request was worded yesterday. Oh well, you can't rush art. Yup.

Ward on.

All in all, this week seems a bit rushed, and a bit "heaty" if you'll pardon the massacre. One does not know why, yet one feels like one is being slowly cooked at 228 degrees, for about 8 days. Imagine.

Attend.

One must fare thoust all well, and safe journey. You deal any cards you want, but this doesn't mean anyone is going to play your game.

Salutations, and best of all, NO Worries, Just Think.

Save alittle water and electricity, where you can, when you please. Just be sure that you do so BEFORE our children starts to have to wear gas masks and all sorts of rubbish, just because you can't get on the green page.

Matthekage

P.S. I have not shared with you what exactly My Wife cooked. Don't bother asking, for I am not telling. Not really up to wetting my pants just COMING UP with a WHISK of what to say. Take it from me, Yum.