He’s a policeman, a soldier, a programmer, a farmer, a murderer, a priest and a politician. He is anything that he wants to be. He’s a salesman by day and an author by night.
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Why do I have to be nice to this person just because he’s living in my body?
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I don’t wear glasses. I wear prisms. They help me read between the lines.
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You may have noticed I haven’t addressed the topic of Viagra.
Astute observation.
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I bared my soul once.
Someone spanked it.
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I wanted to knit an afghan, but we bombed the source and now supplies are hard to get.
Maybe I should get some china before that’s becomes hard to get too.
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