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

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