Barefoot Lady Blackhawk.
Our Barefoot Lady Pilot. A Barefoot Bird With A Plane.
Barefoot Suzy and I met with Barefoot Zinda Blake, Barefoot Lady Blackhawk tonight. I had just finished building the runway for her plane. The expert barefoot lady pilot already mapped out the best flight plan to locate and attain the secret location where we need to go, sharing the information with her mysterious employer known only as Barefoot Lady Oracle. I will see to it Barefoot Suzy is unconscious during most of this trip, waking her only for food and water. Before going to sleep in my arms, Barefoot Suzy assured me she was going to be fine. I will get her the help she needs. I must be confident. Good. I needed that. Barefoot Lady Blackhawk smiled, welcoming me aboard, adjusting the gyros to accomodate my massive bulk. She was just called in and flew from Washington, D.C. She had to leave the birthday celebration of one of her many lovers, Patrick Dugan, the hero known as "Stripesy" by most of her friends. She flirted over the radio with Dugan for a long time after take-off, then turned her attention toward getting to know more about me. Unlike most other barefoot women I've met, she was graciously accepting of me, and tried several times to strike up a conversation. I'm not one to talk right now. Taking care of Barefoot Suzy, worrying about Barefoot Abby and Barefoot Tefé back home, that's all that concerns me right now. When this mission is successful, my mind will be at peace.
Next:
Miracle Mud.
http://swampthingblog.blogspot.com/2006/03/miracle-mud.html
Barefoot Suzy and I met with Barefoot Zinda Blake, Barefoot Lady Blackhawk tonight. I had just finished building the runway for her plane. The expert barefoot lady pilot already mapped out the best flight plan to locate and attain the secret location where we need to go, sharing the information with her mysterious employer known only as Barefoot Lady Oracle. I will see to it Barefoot Suzy is unconscious during most of this trip, waking her only for food and water. Before going to sleep in my arms, Barefoot Suzy assured me she was going to be fine. I will get her the help she needs. I must be confident. Good. I needed that. Barefoot Lady Blackhawk smiled, welcoming me aboard, adjusting the gyros to accomodate my massive bulk. She was just called in and flew from Washington, D.C. She had to leave the birthday celebration of one of her many lovers, Patrick Dugan, the hero known as "Stripesy" by most of her friends. She flirted over the radio with Dugan for a long time after take-off, then turned her attention toward getting to know more about me. Unlike most other barefoot women I've met, she was graciously accepting of me, and tried several times to strike up a conversation. I'm not one to talk right now. Taking care of Barefoot Suzy, worrying about Barefoot Abby and Barefoot Tefé back home, that's all that concerns me right now. When this mission is successful, my mind will be at peace.
Next:
Miracle Mud.
http://swampthingblog.blogspot.com/2006/03/miracle-mud.html
posted by Swamp Thing at 10:00 PM
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