Happiness is split, stinging lips
from smiling too much
from chortling
chuckling
snorting
guffawing
and the like.
Happiness is an olive stuffed crust of bread.
Or a mastiff puppy with a tough name,
who secretly loves barbies.
And is afraid of chihuahuas.
Who isn't?
Lil buggers are freaky looking.
Yeah. It has something to do with all that.
But so much more.
You think I'll tell you?
You think I know how?
People please... I might be good.
But this isn't my department.
It's a secret.
Only not.
Because I'm broadcasting.
With a tenfoot baseball bat of content.
Y
o
u
Have
T
o
Swing
T
h
e
Bat
