Rae sighed theatrically and sat down the orange juice. “I think you know what I mean.”He shrugged, and her heart skipped a beat when his eyes drop...ed to her breasts.“I’ve got my blazer over here if you’re too cold,” he said while cracking open the juice.She glanced down and couldn’t see any visible evidence of her hard nipples, despite what he was inferring. “I’m getting used to it.”“Well, all you have to do is ask,” he said while pouring juice into one of two plastic cups.Since he was taking. He was now mouse pancake. My retarded Sulphur Crested Cockatoo, Hanns Schmidt had looked on as the mouse had zigged when he should have zagged. The bird rocked merrily on his perch and let loose with his customary litany of death threats before lapsing into demented mutterings about nothing. I would have got rid of Hanns a long time ago but I had heard that Cockatoos tasted like shit. Maybe with a bit of cranberry jelly on New Years day.Actually in the interests of accuracy it was really the. More

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