Debbienho !

Foreword: With no forewarning, or accompanying apology, the elements have introduced me to a plethora of amazing writers. I kid you not when I say I discover new ones every day. Regardless of the painful realization that they make me self-conscious, doubt the purpose of my existence, and cower in a corner beneath a rock, with no desire for sunlight, I’ll post the link of one before I start my blog posts, at least till I run out (or forget)—and I doubt I’ll run out. So…  Grey Mural . I’ve spoken to him like, twice, and the first time I just accosted him outright, with: ‘Why are you so intelligent?’ I may have added a please; I’m polite like that. And, always in character, he gave me an intelligent answer.  Check him out.  He’s too wise. It’s almost annoying. Without the almost. On our side of the table,  everyone  had nicknames. It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t the girls’ fault. The boys, mainly (because I want to give them a level of anonymity, let me use their ini