I received, my dear, your mail. the fact that you have not seen fit to propose to myself and your unknown friend of me hiding under the pseudonym of delicious "undisclosed recipient" to be your roommate fills me with joy and gladness. If
is a pleasure which I have never tasted, is one of the roommates, except to except certain times with certain people who no longer lived with me as usual.
I'd love to be your roommate, miss. Already and of course, because I'm not stupid enough not to know that one of the main advantages of collocation when you are not the same sex and heterosexual rather, is to provide pleasure to the potential map.
Before going further forward, I must nevertheless tell you that I must unfortunately decline your proposal. I am not free, even if I were, I doubt that cohabitation, a second week, with children aged 8 and almost 6, pleases you.
I may be wrong completely.
But otherwise, yes, although you knew so little, I confess that the idea of sharing an apartment with you and others probably would fill me with joy. Already because it is nice not to live alone, but in the company of humans, especially when they are pleasant to watch and heard. And then, too, because I visualized us, good friends, you a little tipsy and I bring you back to authority at home. What a great bunch we would!
I visualize small gifts that everyone would surely find regularly under his pillow. A disc, a book, a pair of socks to replace worn holes three times already, earplugs (to say "tonight, I'll scream loud because my wolf is sleeping. Forgiveness. Kisses. Kikou.lol)
Ah, the lovely little life of plenty, like singing Jeanne Moreau. Las
, miss, you knew me too old.
Or perhaps is it me who knows you too young. Although
Yours,
In
0 comments:
Post a Comment