eat gullible for breakfast to make you grow up healthy and strong!

So for the past 25 years I've had the misconception that another name for a hare was a deddy. This all boiled down to the fact that we had a painting of a hare on our wall and whenever I commented on it when I was little, my mum would say loudly DEDDDDDDDYYYYYY!

It only came to light recently that I was in fact a dumb arse. And that the only reason she called it such was because my brother too suffered from genetic dumb-arsery and mistook the hare in the picture for a corgie that lived across the road whose name was Teddy, which he mispronounced Deddy!

Then I thought 'what if we took everything repeated to us when we were young as gospel?' And this is the tangent I went on...

Every time I'm happy I get funny looks off people cause I continuously clap my hands.

My parents have stopped feeding me sugar because I keep referring to my toes as little piggies that perhaps over indulge in market going and eating roast beef (which I think in itself is quite specific.. I mean why not some chicken or some veal? Maybe a side of vegetables?).

I steer clear of crusts on bread lest my hair get any curlier yet I've developed a weird obsession with eating carrots in the hope of achieving acute night visionary senses and so aiding in my life's ambition of becoming a spy.

I'm constantly standing round at a loss because Simon hasn't told me to do anything yet. Although who Simon is is a little confusing seeing as though I've never actually met the guy... Also I get anxious at the idea of walking down the street. A lack of Council funding has left a considerable amount of cracks in the pavement and should I tread on one my mother's back will break!

All this pressure of making sure every inch of crust is gone, not having any say in what I do and my mothers impending paralyzation (coz I'm bound to slip up sometime!) leaves me a little strung out! The only person I feel I can confide in is my teddy bear, but he seems to constantly be going to picnics in the woods! (Which he never invites me to. You know considering we're BFFs and all I find it a little disheartening that although he's met all my friends I've never met any of his).

So, strung out with no one I can turn to I start smoking crack, rename myself Laura Palmer and then whore myself out to my friends' dads!!

hmmm... wow! Guess its a good thing I finally developed a mind of my own and Deddy's aside, stopped swallowing every bit of crap my parents fed me.