A neat dish on a murder menu, she’s got.
Thin lipped, fat but firm feet, husband sharing and admiring of bigamist, after she discovered that her husband did and keep the two women happy when he still alive.
A half-dressed but not a half-baked she is and half a lout are not better than one she said.
Still too valuable to generate more fire and a rotting liar, a mischievous twinkled in her eyes.
World is keeping but not a BBC, a daydreamer and dwelling beautiful day.
Then again she covered Afghanistan and rotten molested terrorist.
The phone keep ringing, the one-third liquor of Scotch Highland Dream still on rocks, the mild cloves cigarette lighten and hope there’s still peace at Turkmenistan.
