‘let’s go drinking. I’ll make you the best margarita you’ve ever had — 100% wormshit free!’ Promises from the daughter of the groom. Who had nothing to do with those handcuffs. Or the K-Y.
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Beer. Yay.
a fine, fine evening with the lovely miss anne thrope buying sexy new shoes, drinking champagne, eating tiramisu (WITH FIRE!!! tiny candles, not just for birthdays anymore!), and watching a favorite film. nobody steps on a church in my town! (as noted elsewhere: not much beats two hot girls giggling, drinking champagne, and shouting out […]
lazing on a sunny afternoon, in the almost summertime. fifty degrees outside; going on eighty inside. packing some shit up, pruned back the basil plant a little, putting off doing laundry, pondering maybe going to working bikes to look at the selection to see if they have anything more wrist-friendly than the santa bike has […]
No chalk!! Not our fault!
