I love this. Love your poetry. Very beautiful.

Say, I don't want to undercut the serenity of the message that you left against this soundbite but I was half expected to see a load of bric-a-brac in that cookie tin because that's what a nana would usually do, she'd usually use a biscuit tin to keep all her needles and threads and thimbles and all kinds of seamstress bric-a-brac and I'm like nana what the fuck why are you disguising sewing material as cookies?

Aw man, why would you bring back this trauma? Get your mouth full, ready for some cookies. Mmmmm. Pretzel corn with that, that little crystallized sugar on top. And you open it. Damn needle and thread. Nick Nacks and what have you. You thought you, you thought you found gold underneath grandma's bed. Womp, womp, womp.

Shout out to the beautiful Wamspec. Poetry is amazing, my beautiful baby. You guys relax, relax. Oh yeah. He don't do the work though.

I usually use those cookie cans to store my weed and coins. Yeah, facts one.

Snap, snap, snap, snap. Yes, let's go. The trauma. I definitely went through that trauma. The sewing kit and the cookie bin, yes. Definitely was in my house.

Yeah, shout out to the poor G But I was gonna know this video triggered the fuck out of me because I remember one time I wanted them cookies I love those cookies My grandma used to have them in the house and I was like, oh, thank me some cookies open them cookies up and it was So and shit in there it was never no cookies in that damn blue container never no motherfucking cookies, bruh never Why did you do this? This is so heartbreaking to remember

How are you? We are spectacular! I send you a greeting, I hope you have a good weekend and a very good post. I think we all have a box full of sewing machines. See you!