My Poor Lydia

In my bugged, unbugged, sting, stung, (the itch is almost too much for me), I forgot to tell about Lydia. Well, Lydia near toppled over last night. I do not know if she had a fox, maybe had a Donald, visit last night. This morning she was a fright, I asked her, politely - what were you doing last night? Did you suffer from the bugs, is it all in your head, my god, you're plastic, but I do not wish you to be dead. I fixed her all up and now she is politely dressed. I fixed her jeans, her flannel shirt, and sported her new a prine blue suncatcher (blue to match her jeans).

I do not know if Donald should show up tonight.

Oh, Alas, Lydia - Go For It!