Rolled oolongs, you torture me.
You never smell floral when you’re being all coy, dry, rolled up and green.
But the minute hot water hits you, and enormous bouquets of flowery evil assault me.
What am I going to do with all this tea, now?
If you make it for me, I will drink it :) I like it.
Swap it with someone?
Liz drank it :D
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You can hear the music I compose here:
I have a chapter in this book of popular philosophy