Tweet...tweet... Tweetttttt 19/05

Honestly I am lost for words on hwy I am not posting regularly.

Please do bear with me.

I was caught up with works ( at my tender age now, I am still working as if I was thirty five ie mauling the electronic machines for data and restoring the faulty ones. Darn, I loved my lifestyle; I am always crouched down below the table looking up other's legs while my butt was displayed for all.

Yes, ma'am. I do pull the hem down. I surely don't want any pinkie at my valley of the Kilimanjaro. I might scream.... rape... perhaps although I fancied the intruder. I was once asked what am I doing there like the Disco old lyric...

"What cha doing there...."

"I am looking for my butt plug..." Thought that came out well, for I felt no dark forces behind me then. If I said 'looking for my ear plug" they might leaned over to hear me out. It might had sounded like this if it was.

"Ouch!"

I am sure you want to hear about the legs tales. Well, there were some but with the cramped space I was crouched in, it was a bit of a cramp to peek given the IKEA tables have protective walls on three sides of the table, and with little breathing space. And if you do see any signs of 'heavy breathing' its probably me struggling to do it with a girth of forty squeezed folded to fit into a thirty two inches wide table bottom. Guess you could pictured it like the hyena mounting the hippo, and the hippo was ranting; "you the cleaner or the fucker?"

Pardon me on that one.

When you have only Animal Planet on TV when you are back in the hotel. Besides watching myself in the mirror ( all the forms have reformed to shape ) or trying to design the room layout ( I always tell my wife, the room at IKEA is not organised by normal people; the orcs comes out at night to do it after we messed it up. And we don't have orcs at home. Only grunting people like you. I earned my stay at IKEA soon after when she cleared my savings. I was there to get the refunds.)

At my tender age, I disliked the hotel rooms. The bed is hard, and the pillows are too fluffy, and the covers are all tucked in too tight into the bed frame ( you slip in like a beaver into the nesting ). My first ritual when I checked in was to drag the covers off. No, I was not looking for sperm counts but I want to make sure it looked clean. It should look back at me; white and clean.

Next I will check the shower.

It had be clean too. And no body length mirror. I have my architect at home to tell me which dimensions are out already. My reply was standard; "it called body flesh. It moved on its own momentum."

"Yeah, I know. When I am not in mood, it's in the driving mode." That was her younger reply. Nowadays she just say "I can see the foundation is not holding up too well. Perhaps you need to perk it up with your imagination."

God, I love the woman.

And all those I could make out from the heels below.

Cheers and stay alive.