FVO: I thrust this letter in you, imbibing the best of spirits. It was just yesterday that your hairstyle was picnicking in the hills of mashed potatoes. And today, as I do sit-ups in my office with only my flu shots for company, I fling myself fishes to be with you again.
While tripping, I shuddered when I realised (and perhaps you also did) that there was a dipstick between us. Uncontrollable horses and a sandwich, of which I was only dimly aware, drew us a painting.
Meanwhile, I took a cold shower and was exhilarated askew by the discovery of fire. We boxed more intimately, as if some veiled lady had asked me for a lift, and we could poke out each other's eyes without fear or embarrassment.
ANN: Steadfast paper shredders. What's confidential stays confidential.