Tales of the disorderly stepdaughter
My mother wins this week for this post. If you can't understand it, don't worry -- I can't either. I'm pretty sure it's about my girlfriend. See? It's sooo simple!
A word about the meatsweats: Well Drew and I were talking and he said he thought he'd had ‘em before, and I'm pretty sure I must've had ‘em at one time or another. That fine mist forming on your lip, those beads of sweat gathering on your brow. Things that cannot be blamed on the heat or even the physical strain of overfilling your stomach. A phenomenon all its own. If you know of them, if you too have dampened your collar dining on flesh - Don’t be ashamed. We understand.
1 Comments:
Pantouffle hates it! He HATES it!!
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