There was going to be a poem here, but I forgot the rest.
I want to sleep... but I've phone calls to make for the murder mystery.
Perhaps I'll write more here when I'm done with those.
Can I sing right now? Probably not. I'll put that call off for a little bit.
Cryptic, or merely nonsensical? An exercise best left to the reader.
Where the heck is mousie? I've lost an oar, would trade for an ear.
Addendum: One phone call down. There may not be a murder mystery Thursday. And the reschedule date is during the week I'm in Florida. I get paid either way, but I'll be blue if we don't do this. Actually, I'm just blue.