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Hello, Anne. I made you a webpage. Yep. It is all about you. It's not much and I'll put more on here later, but I hope you have fun with it.


A picture was supposed to go here, but I have been trying to fix it for the last hour I've been on the computer here, sorry it will not load, but if you would like the picture I will e-mail it to you. Blah.
(this picture was what i was working on last night:)


Ann'i'e - n. - a nut. A little girl who is crazy and has nice feet.

Let's see what else now. I wrote a song for you... It goes like so, la la la la la la la la la la la la la!! Ok. And I put your poems on here that I wrote for you. You've already seen them but you can read them again. Yay.

mah friend ann'i'e.

A little girl one day, decided to go outside and play. Nono, says her mother. It is not sunny out today. Nevermind then, thinks little Annie, I will go out later. It is cold, and wet, and it is clammy. Eep! Oh yes. What a good idea. is it? I thought so. So right. Oh yeah. a few hours later, she goes outside. Now it's just perfect. I'll play on the slide. Ugh. The slide is all wet. This is silly. Too bad. I'll have to just go inside. Perhaps I'll play with Emily. Back in her house, she goes upstairs, Again she's bored, and she bursts into tears. Great. I cannot go outside. Poor me. I will just have to watch TV.

Ann'i'e and her dog.

'Twas smilly, and lew pyre coves, Mid lyre in the title woves, Gem lapsed time cosine, within the knickered knack, Thrice times deven, pin the lilly pack, Came ann'i'e in the trailluh dew, Nutbag gutsnag rapatat smat, With her sappy sack: nappy swat! Slicey twicey fearsome foof, Moof moof, its seeple eye lost a toof, Poor dead nutbag within slew gutsnag, Onto more lefore bave core, No, we shall say? Te hee! poo-tee-weet, Smelling, dwelling, so loe sweet, Mittle little ann'i'e found sound PluTo, Alast fuseep. Aieeep! wryed PluTo, he was asundry, Blee-eep! wryed Ann'i'e, she ter ablundry, Dice the mice. Game of chess. Oui or si? They doth mid cede. Pawn up two, knight moved three, hover, hover, crash! CHECKMATE. the game was over. PluTo was a cheater. Mittle Ann'i'e alast fuseep wint spint. Her blundrous ballet, mountay, spat tay! He was out sorted today. Blee-eep! wryed PluTo, fell to the ground. Hee-tweet, Ann'i'e laughed, fell to the sound . . . . . . so say, Tillamund in the ole solteo bay.


Ok. That is all. Well I must go now, Ann'i'e. Talk to you tomorrow. Tata.
-Pluto