This reminds me of the time that I was living in a place that had ten seasons every year, and all them had a different color, like the sort of color you could taste, and they cost so much to have but it didn't matter since I had so much money, not money like we know it but sort of these electric fire things that didn't hurt, an no I meant seasons and not seasonings, I know the difference, I am not stupid, and I am not stupid, and the years went by fast, faster than a crayon on wax paper, which I certainly do not recommend eating, or not eating without toasting first, and my favorite season was the one that was sort like cinnamon and ketchup but grayish with purple haze, but I can no longer afford that since I need to save up for shoes and a new baseball glove to go with the tree, the one that grew during the cold olive green season about fourteen or fifteen years ago.
Don't ask what sort of Chunks they are, you probably don't want to know. Blowing Chunks since Season 4!