Thenks milleniums to mai speechriters. They have verbal dairrhea! New word to god save the queen as follows;
All gods creatures have a place in the choir,
Some sing low and some sing higher
Some sing out loud on the telephone wire,
And some just clap their hands, their feet, their paws, or anything they got.
Gottta go now - special huggies to Squeaky, the Calico Cat.
Being a queen (especially if you are a white goose, is very hard).
My crown keeps slipping! I keep forgetting the national anthem.
Utter obediance is the only little thing I ask of my subjects. My tastes are simple - I only want "simply the best there is:" Now isn't that simple?
Reclining at leisure with my new Royal guest - cat knighted "Sir Spooky" (a ltho' she is a spayed female - oops - who cares). She insists that Squeaky be made a Knight also. After all, they are out on the tiles mostt nights, - well I managed to "knight" them without ramming the damned sword through the little sexpots.
From the Palace Headquarters of
Queen Whitegoose
(If quoted - I will deny everything).
