b***h! Y'better pay your taxes - y'want your beloved mother on the streets? C'mere you whippersnapper! Oh.
Why hello, child. Come in, come in! Sit, sit! I'll put this frying pan away for now.
Welcome to my page, love. Grandma Gaia. That's me name.I knit your underwear. Give me a big ol' hug, 'ja?
Things I love.
I love hugs. In short, hugs make you feel like a snug bug in a mug in a jug on a pug on a rug in a tug. Ugh.
I love knitting. 'Nuff said.
I like puns - be they witty, cheesy, or plain damn confusing. Like this one.
My grandson swallowed some coins and was taken to a hospital. When I telephoned to ask how he was, the nurse said "No change yet."
Hur hur. Ain't that hilarious.
I love donations. If you're a penurious pansy like my late hubbie, fine. But you can at least pay your taxes. Else the elderly, like I por ejemplo, will have to reside into the streets - we, bags o' ol' bones with pockets empty, CARDBOARD BOXES FOR SHELTER, AND UNDERSUPPLIES OF WOOL AND KNITTING NEEDLES.
Whoops, there goes the fork.
Speaking of forks and food, I also own a cafe. Be darling and check it out, will you?
Grandma Gaias Cafe!
Things I hate.
Beggars. Disregarding the fact that I could be one.
Olivia and Agatha. I'm sexier than those ol' geezers - you know it, sweetheart.
I'll shut up now. Why don't you tell me 'bout y'self, 'ja?
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The Knitting Adventures of Grandma Gaia
No knitted lingerie for you, y'pansy!