nice now you are here, as if all's rosy. yet last wednesday walking Farm Cove steadily, white squid floated with windblown brown bubbles and plastic bags, while brine filmed irises slick.
you were easily placated. an appointment arranged on Level 5, for the afternoon. tissue and a white foam drinking cup proffered at reception. make yourself sick why don't you, dear. will you, here? be more ugly and garbled and hysterical if that is the way it is. you could continue to feign pert reticence (should be used to it by now), and claim, computer's busted! riddled with teensex fuckup files! it wasn't me! (although that too is true): don't.