.” I was dictating into my private journal on my laptop, well memoir I guess. The Story of the Life and Times of Harry Evans, the kind, gentle, and ...enevolent Master of the Hive. Ann, my dependable right hand Girl Friday put in.< This is my journal Ann and I want it to remain that way.> I shot back on our always open channel. Another example of the downside of mental telepathy, ha, ha.As I was thinking ... I started off with Ann and her Pod of five. That was fun for awhile. I guess I could have. You have a long bubble bath, taking time to shave so your baby smooth all over. You get out and let your body dry naturally, putting your hair up after drying it. You choose your favorite eye shadow, a smoky purple, and paint your lips a nice red. Your nails are still a nice red from earlier that day. You put on your favourite perfume behind your ears, your wrists, your knees and between your breasts. You pull a soft pair of smoky black stockings up your legs then you put on your garter belt. "Good, cause I'd hate to have to go off on some bitch that hurts my daddy." She said with a little grin.That night we all went swimming barbecued and watched movies, but right as her grandparents went to bed, I had to go to bed too since I had to get up early as hell. I only slept in my boxers that night, so it was a good thing that I had something on. All I knew was at some point early early in the morning, I felt my bed move a little."Daddy?" I heard as I opened my eyesWhen I looked up and. No. Certainly it was last night, the bitter aftertaste of the wormwood still supporting a waxy coating on the back of my tongue. Most unusual properties, the absinthe, in providing a marked increase in euphoria on ingestion, but a most unappealing after effect on the body the following day, with a trembling and disorientation most unusual as compared to the other more standard digestifs we men are wont to partake of while in amicable groups. Finishing the ill attempt at what would normally be.