I have been flying at half-mast so long now (I’m not sure why), but I’m concerned because it’s starting to feel like full-mast, and THAT is something I’d HATE to do to Mast.
Mast doesn’t deserved to be yanked up and down each day, only to get VERY COMFORTABLE in one location,
Then to be forced to evacuate this “temporary location” for its “permanent location,”
Where all the upping and downing, yanking and hoisting takes place TO and FROM.
It’s despicable, it truly is. We shouldn’t treat Mast half-assed, that’s all there is to it.
No, as a mast’er of fact, I have NOT consumed any hallucinogens (but do you know where I could get some?),
I’m simply feeling a little Wordplaful, a little World-flirty.
How’d you like to lock eyes, lock lips, and interlock fingertips in a smoky, dark, bluesy cocktail bar right now? I’d even let you choose which Mast we use, fly, and try.
One thought on “TALES OF A HALFWIT AT HALF-MAST”
I didn’t realize how racy this was. It was a write-as-you-go.