Can’t have sex with it either.
Can’t have sex with it either.
I went to the Whitehouse in 1989 as part of a high school band geek trip to play during Bush 41’s inauguration. I had a ridiculous “butterfly” knife and a wad of firecrackers in my jean jacket. There was no reason to have them. They were just in my jacket all the time. The dude at the metal detector took the knife, tossed the black cats into the trash can and waved me through. He returned the knife when we left.
I wonder if that would be newsworthy today.
Make a document with all of the passwords and save it to her desktop. Print it, too, and leave it in a drawer.
I always go six minutes. Fight me.
I’m here for the same reasons. I’m still figuring it out. So far so good though.
BAM! Herpes
I wonder who’s birthday?!