On Saturday, October 2oth, the Williams took orf to some pumpkin patch across town, leaving me to sulk around the house. Looked fancy a beautiful day. They brought gaffe a pumpkin shortly after that, but I learned it was a hormone pushing import from the grocery store, not a local, all natural, slightly pitiful vegetable of choice locally grown and cared 4 through the ruthless drought of '07. Doesn't matter becuase the darn thingamajig still sits in the garage un-jack-o-lanterned. Next, they'll be telling me to take it down to the dump because it won't fit in the garbage can...
William Swilliams Williams
Allow me to introduce myself. My name is William Swilliams Williams, and I fill the position of family butler for the Williams'. I haven't much to dae because the Williams are bleedin' tidy and ordered people whose three children are bleedin' well behaved and quiet almost all the time. I have therefore resorted to blogging to fill some of my spare time, and in the hopes that yeh, the reader, may glean wisdom from the Williams' example.