I assume you two are not surprised I have speculums - 'specula', would be correct neo-Latin, isn't it? - for you two. I intend to Intimately Inspect f...rstly your bright brains, which is far more interesting, isn't it? Sylvia & Karin agree. I do not notice the start of their exchanging of meaningful glances at each other, in which they start to speculate:I read his Intimate Inspection implies, he wants to watch us finger our fannies & come right in front of his nose.I wonder whether he wants to. So I just continued the pattern of violating Shirley's privacy, and went over to see Herm and Betsy, to talk about Shirley some more, behind her back. I gave them a moderately abridged version of our conversation at my place -- deemphasizing Shirley's anger and her sometimes crudely expressed resentment, but characterizing her negative reaction to our "investigations" as accurately as I was able.Betsy spoke first, after I'd explained that Shirley was unlikely to want to hear from me again. "She. Still didn't seem to be in any hurry to catch him, either. Made for worry, too. After all, they knew the country a hell of a lot better than he did. One thing seemed certain in the outlaw's mind. That posse didn't act like they were going to stop until they caught him.Suddenly his horse took a misstep, throwing the desperate outlaw and his mount off the side of the ridge. They fell in a tangle of limbs, horse and rider scrambled together. Fierce screams of fright came from the horse. Falling. Bobby had always been a somewhat peculiar boy, whose intrests were not in line with Hank's. But that Sunday afternoon he fellt an odd sense of pride when he discovered his sons new masturbatory practice. Bobby was jerking his little noggin to a Strickland propane calendar. In any ther other household they would have said that boy ain't right, but Hank knew that Bobby finally gave in to his odorless misstress propane. He got a little scared too, the boy gave in a bit too much to propane, he.