Mister Bagley
I am giddy at the thought of celebrating every March 19th with you until we both spontaneously combust at age 92, you from too much cheese, me from too much stress.
My only regret is that I was unable to attend all your birthdays preceding our fated meeting. Luckily, we cloned you, and I can dress your tiny type up in boy frocks and snuggle you in miniature while we read Little Women together.
I adore you darling, really I do.
Feed me fashionably fresh
