Feed me, Seymour! Or, Bob. Really anyone will do.
I hate sitting for portraits, but sometimes one
simply must indulge the peasants.
I can reach you from here. You know that right?
Eeeeek, a peeping paparazzi!
Are you really leaving again? I’z gonna cry.
(Originally published on the Wyrdsmiths blog July 31 2009, and original comments may be found there. Reposted and reedited as part of the reblogging project)