*He finds his feet under him, though how is really unclear to his brain, as it’s located very far away from his feet and currently pickling in firewhiskey.*
‘M up. I’m up. I’m not Dora. I’m up. Seriously. Ha. Seriously up. Ha.
*He’s clearly not very good at “up,” though, judging by how he leans on the table and still manages to sway.*
no subject
‘M up. I’m up. I’m not Dora. I’m up. Seriously. Ha. Seriously up. Ha.
*He’s clearly not very good at “up,” though, judging by how he leans on the table and still manages to sway.*
You sending me home, then?