From the Birthing to the Gnawing to the Leaping, Glaring, and Thupping, all my woeful gloanings shall I here unfold. My wicked progeny is yet at large and I am sore beset. Whence this journey ends I dare not think, and whence it begins I am loathe to look. Ah, such travails! Such woe and robiderance!
By A.S. Peterson