I have absolutely no idea how to keep up with you folk anymore. Why, with The Real Housewives of Atlanta back on the air, me nosing around in this and that and every other whatnot I’m into these days, blogging is the furthest thing from my mind. I do want to share half of a story with you. I do, folks, have to exercise some level of discretion since acquiring this position with the FBI, trying to investigate what in the heck’s going on with Obamacare.
So, as the story goes, I had a texting stalker about a week ago. That joker was texting so fast, I could hardly get a word in. Scared the living poop outta me when one day I came home and heard some walking around up my stairs. At the time I’m hearing all this foot-walking, I’m hungry as all get out and had to stop mid-bite ’cause I’m thinking this nut’s been rambling in my paperwork. Seeing that everything was intact, what else could it possibly be, right?
So, I stay halfway focused on eating and still hearing footsteps. Call me crazy, foolish or what have you but I couldn’t fight this fool on an empty stomach. I had to get my strength up, folks. I kept my right eye on the patio door and my left one toward the den area while stuffing my mouth in case I had to make a run but I be darn if I wasn’t closer to the fridge than I was to the door. Now that I think about it, I don’t even think what I was eating was worth losing my life for but being the risk-taker I am, I kept right on eating some leftover whatnot.
Next thing I know, my daughter’s friend comes down and my eye sockets got so big, I thought my eyeballs would roll right to the floor. By this time, I’m chewing but it ain’t all that good, being that I’m scared for my life. Now, I can truly understand why them folk get killed 15 minutes into a movie. I mean, really. The choices folk make. Though, I’m real happy I lived to tell you about this. Maybe one day, I’ll fill you in on the rest of the story.