Can we meet somewhere?" Sure, Your place or mine?" she said with a lilt to her voice."Text me your address, OK?" This isn't a ploy of some kind, is it...Michael?" You'll have to hear my idea first Amy — either way. It doesn't matter to me." Well, now you have my interest piqued, I'll text you my address. Bring food with you, please — surprise me!"I showed up with Chinese food 37 minutes later. My hands were full so I used my foot to knock."Who is it?" The only man within 1000 miles!" Ooh, Chinese. I prayed a silent, desperate prayer that she was healthy.The stinky, gooey stuff seemed to stick to my teeth and tongue as I attempted to actually swallow some. The girl behind me seemed to notice and whispered "Yes you little ass-eater, swallow it all down. Here, something to wash it down with."She pulled my head sharply backwards by my hair and started dribbling her spit into my open mouth. The other girl pulled her ass away, turned and joined her, giggling as they half-filled my shitty mouth. This Compliments of Mario MPaddy is passing by Mick’s hay shed one day when through a gap in the door he sees Mick doing a slow and sensual striptease in front of an old green Massey Ferguson tractor. Buttocks clenched he performs a slow pirouette and gently slides off first the right welly, followed by the left. He then hunches his shoulders forward and in a classic striptease move lets his braces fall down from his shoulders to dangle by his hips over his corduroy trousers. Grabbing both. One — we know there are not enough hulls left in Chencon to even guard their own n space and two — the destruction of the courier; it was never meant to return. My assessment was that he partied hard on the flagship and his hosts got him drunk while they sabotaged the courier probably during bunkering.I think the background about intentions is correct; I have doubts about the tactical details and about the alleged colonising fleet. Sat doesn't believe me when I tell him he was meant to die in.