Something I was seriously concerned about doing during some slip ofawareness. Standing up and turning the alarm off for real this time.I staggered ov...r to the mirror."Sweetie, you, look like shit," I told myself in the mirror.I still rubbed my hands half heartedly all over my breasts, down mystomach, over my crotch and around my ass. Carefully scratching it inthe end, girls still scratched their butt in the morning, right? Istaggered still over to the dresser trying to convince my tired. ) Fletcher had discovered that, almost by default, he was now the go-to guy on all matters Buckman. He had been covering me for the Sun for ten years now and was probably the only reporter who had ever been inside the house. I had talked to him the other day, but only to tell him to call the Bush campaign, and that he knew me well enough to know I wasn’t going to say anything else to him.“So, Fletcher, you’ve known Carl Buckman the longest of any reporter I know of. What’s he really like?”. More

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