Next, I bought a large bag of drugs from my former step-father (as an aside, I wish there was a less awkward way to refer to a step-father your proud and willful mother divorced). It was time to make plans for oblivion.
The orcs on their leashes at the leg meat cafe sounded like mesh rash, their friendship dissected and laid out like items on deep discount. Jean said she would have to edit our green simulations of ecstasy. I concurred.
Still, I wait