Yay, carnival lunch
Cotton candy and snowcones
Tooth decay tastes good
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Ah, sewing machine, how I miss you. I try to remeber all the time you hurt me so I can pretend I don't care that you're gone. Like remember that time you sewed through my hand and I thought I was going to die because there was thread in my skin and I was bleeding and I couldn't tell what was thread and what was blood and it was really scary? And remember how sometimes, when you've been on for a long time, you smell like someone lit a car on fire? And remember how one time when it was dark and you were laying in the middle of the floor and I tripped over you and your little pointy thread-holding thing cut my leg (which I still have the scar from)?

But then I think about all the good times we've had and I wonder why you have forsaken me.
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"Hey, let's fight chromosomes." 
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A peanut just went up my shirt sleeve.