I prop the library book on my face like a tent. I know the pages are musty and have been touched by who the hell knows how many hands that have been who the fuck knows where. I really don’t care. Let the filth of countless fingers caress my skin. I’ll wash my face later. Right now I’ve got talking to do.
I whisper into the musty pages everything I don’t want to write or say. And imagine that the next person who checks this book out will hear me when he gets to the pages that touched my face.
Are you kidding me with that? You better get yourself BLOGGING several times a day until you are back to a respectable standing. You are obviously rusty and I need the image of that poor cat erased from my mind.
Darling, I meant no offense by mistakenly implying you had quit blogging. Let’s say it was my ulterior motive to get you to post more! Yes, that’s it! *twirls evil mustache between fingers*
That’s one amazing cat! Well worth the wait. But wait! This isn’t the cat that ran into the blind guy is it???
I can see the lasers shooting out of his eyes at you!
Freaky. Fun.