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Under the Table

psst psst come closer cause i know your type can't seem to write am i right thinking your muse left you so oh dear oh deary do what to do with out her inside my mind i've got a quick fix just slip one of these in when in doubt i'll try my best to match your style and mums the word but it seems you seem to have some sort of conscience and matter of factuality to some degree of something higher then your very being so be on your way for i don't sell to those who are already slaves

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Maureen Mcgreavy

Date: 10/25/2019 2:42:00 PM

I'm stroking my beard a la The Thinker. Ok, slight exaggeration, my whiskers.

Jeff Connelly
Date: 10/26/2019 4:01:00 PM

If all goes well, early February.

Maureen Mcgreavy
Date: 10/25/2019 8:49:00 PM

My brain is shite at the moment. Nerves of jelly. We have rats. Heard one in the cuboard last night, opened the door it ran into my one foot, then the other, I screamed like a banshee. Hope on the horizon though, for my brain anyway, I have just ordered a nasal photobiomodulation device, near infrared light therapy. Enough about me, when do you get to see your sweet?

Maureen Mcgreavy
Date: 10/25/2019 8:31:00 PM

...they're blonde. Before my whiskers grew I had already embraced a small mole on my chin line that grows long curly hairs; affectionately called my Thinking Mole. The moustache however, those ttwo hairs I do pluck ;p

Jeff Connelly
Date: 10/25/2019 8:06:00 PM

Im sure your whiskers are dear, and red at that; but I didn't stroke mine but scratched, "Oh I can't write that!!!" But she patted my head and said it was okay. Time to dust you off and take you off your shelf. Her and I have many Cartagena plans to make for ourselves. Thank you Maureen.