eloisel
Forever Empress E
Anyway, for "not thinking of me naked" you sure do bring it up a lot. Christ, I hope you're not trying to rub one out while thinking of me. Not only would it make me throw up a little in my mouth, but the puff of dust from your spasming old cooter is likely to restart the great Dust Bowl of 1932.
Actually, what I bring up most is your confession that you often get up in the middle of the night to write things down you want to remember to write to me. In my mind's eye, I see you knuckle dragging around your house, scratching your hairy brow, turning over every rock and raking through the ashes of your hearth fire looking for something, anything, to write with. And, then, when you find a little piece of coal with which to make your marks you discover you've already used up all your little flat rocks. In despair, you slap the palm of your hand against your face then sneeze when the coal encrusted tufts of hair on your palm entangle with the crumb infused strands of hair dangling from your nose.
In other words, you have much more to worry about than should my old cooter puff dust in your direction. Which, by the way, I can assure you just won't happen.