Mr G. Morphine. Day 3.
Such fun...
He's currently sleeping in the shed.
Most sense I've had out of him was this sentence...
Mr G: Is that your thing coming out of your thingle there?
Me: Er... I genuinely don't know how to answer that?
Mr G: *Half sobs and moves in for a hug* I don't want to be a crackhead...
Such. Fun. Is it 'wine o'clock' anywhere in the world yet?
M x
He's currently sleeping in the shed.
Most sense I've had out of him was this sentence...
Mr G: Is that your thing coming out of your thingle there?
Me: Er... I genuinely don't know how to answer that?
Mr G: *Half sobs and moves in for a hug* I don't want to be a crackhead...
Such. Fun. Is it 'wine o'clock' anywhere in the world yet?
M x
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I know, I know... poetry also not my strong point...