Oh, sir. My teen son nearly blasted my ears out with his guffaws when he saw you on the sidewalk today, all 98-pasty-myopic-painfully-thin pounds of you, wearing a white t-shirt, a black wrestling singlet, black Converse high-tops with black socks, eating a bag of chips and apparently talking to yourself or worse, on a Bluetooth.
© Copyright 2008- Marianne Spellman