On the way to Perth, so due to time constraints, this afternoons blog post runs thus –
Every night my father fills me with dread,
when he sits on the foot of my bed.
Now, I don’t mind that he speaks,
in gibbers and squeaks.
But for seventeen years he’s been dead!
Click the picture above, who know’s what lurks within? Moohahahahaha!
Love you all,
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