Ahoy, this be for all ye mateys out there who be telling me, “I soooo wanna be you, Baba Yaga. You can totally do whatever you want. You don’t have to take no guff from nobody.” Blimey, that be a shipload of bilge. I bets you seven pieces of eight you not be saying that if you knows about The Big Book of How Things are. So I be giving you the poop.
It not be like I wants to live in a house with chicken legs or paddle around in a poky smart-mouthed soup bowl or get older when some swabby he be asking me a question. But The Big Book says I gots to. When I be a witchling I goes, “Fie! I grabs that Big Book and makes it walk the plank.”
Me mom she sez to me she sez, “You can do that Baba Girl, but you’ll also throw away all the rules that keep things the way they are. Then anything can happen. Cockroaches could become witches. AND witches could become cockroaches.”
Stap me vitals, I not be wanting to be askeered of questions, but I not be wanting to be a cockroach even more. Arrr, so Baba Yaga be Baba Yaga, chicken legs, soup bowl, and all.
Mateys, I be loving our little chats, but for now I hoists me anchor and sails away. Next month I be blogging about me one big love. Aye aye, it be a thing. Wait for it.
I be waitin’ with baited breath, I be!
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Arr, ’twill be worth it, me matey.
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