I wondered where DeadCat had slipped off to. Some days I thought she might have coughed up her ninth under a bridge or stuffed in a rubbish bin. Other days, I imagined she found her way into a national park. But the pussy’s been drinking g&t with Ernest Crumb. Blimey, Cat, you could have called…
A collaboration between Tony Single and myself for Crumble Cult.
I get the feeling she does precisely what she wants when she wants. Ahhh, if only we all had that freedom, eh?
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We have it to the extent we are willing to pay the price.
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Which begs the question… how much do we want it?
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Exactly. I love freedom so much and the price I’ve paid for it is high. Too high? Some days it feels like it, but most days…nah. 🙂
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Then there’s a thing or two I can learn from you about freedom.
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ok, let’s meet up at the pub later, say 5pm? let’s ditch Ernest and the Cat…
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Done. I will probably be chickenshit as all get out and have just orange juice though. Ha! 😛
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Good stuff. You two make a great team!
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you gotta like a woman who lets you know she’s a female in no uncertain terms…
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Haha!
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!!!
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