Why do you write?
Wrong answers only.

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Why do you write?
Wrong answers only.
"I've been up and down these lines for years."
"And now that my dodgy brakes have been sorted, me and you can finally have that chat." Edward chuckled.
Thomas had missed him, the sheds just weren't the same without the older engine around.
And with that the 'wise' engine began.
"See the problem with todays radio young Thomas, is the lack of choice."
The older engine went on...
"When I was young and red, we had a nice selection of wax cylinders to pick from. All the greats." He puffed.
"Edward, we arrived here the same time!" Interupted the little engine. "And I remember how much they stunk."
The little engine wasn't sure who put a penny in the old fart today. But he wasn't about to him ruin radio.
The old engines debated til they grew tired. First 'modern' music, then the stamp. Before long it was decimalisation.
"I don't care, a quids a quid" the little engine peeped. "I just charge them the same as when we opened."
I'm sure things calmed down eventually though...
"Photography. I don't care how the exposure works, I just my soul back." The older engine finished.
listening to Homestuck music and also drawing FEZ fanart is a experience
Mom: What if it dies?
Me: Mom. Is a frigging CACTUS DAMN IT!
One of the silliest discussions I've ever had, was over my mom's cactus and me forgetting to watering once per month.