*sigh* I'm loosing my touch. (Warning: Hi-jacked by Em)

Spook, I'd dance with you for free.
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I could sell brownies...but that sounds awfully close to work....
 
I LOVE to dance Em...

I'm not as fat as I look...but I am old and slow.

So you need to hold me up off the floor and just swing me around.

(just don't drop me)
 
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**Break Time**

Spook has to go lock the garage up, pick up a few things.
Was supposed to be loading some scrap iron for my father.

No ideal how I ended up in the air-conditioned house,
playing on BYC.

Maybe I can find some young feller to do my work tomorrow.
Manual labor is HARD. My shirt is wet, and I hurt all over. Dad's
77 and I'm 103...this is hard on us.

I'm too tired to go to bed. I need a nap...
 
Poor Spook. Always having to work.
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Do you need a note excusing you from work? Think chatting with young 24 year old queen harlot cougars is a valid excuse?
 
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Mr. Spook is back for a bit, freshly laundered.

Now a question...over thirty hits on this thread in the past
little bit. Must be somebody lurking? Somebody stalking us?

Don't be shy. Step right up, let's talk. Em needs your help in
raising $1500 for a fox. Or is everybody waiting on Forest to
finish weding the back yard? Or waiting to see if the Deerman
survives tonights redhead.

What will happen next?

Stay tuned....as Em continues the hi-jack
 

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