I awoke to a lot of commotion out here in the living room, only to discover the Chicken Sisters, Eleanor and Josephine... fussing over their billfolds.
"You still owe me for the Valet", Eleanor said.
"No, I paid for the bottle service when you were in the mosh pit", replied Josephine.
"Well, how did I manage to spend all of the money I had in my purse?", Eleanor wondered aloud.
"Why don't you ask one of the SEVERAL DOZEN guys you invited back to our suite?!", bellowed Josephine.
I have absolutely no idea what the old gals have been up to, but I suspect that later today there will be phone calls and emails from credit card companies, hotel managers, and several dozen lovelorn fellows demanding an explanation.
(Fifty-two years old, and here I am acting as an incompetent supervisor of two geriatric chickens who live like a couple of horny rockstar teenagers with an unlimited allowance.)
I better go separate the two of them, or I'll be cleaning up feathers and chicken teeth for days...
Happy Thursday, Dearies! Do something fun (and less dramatic) and come tell me all about it!