So I'm standing outside at 'breaktime'.
Here is what happens next:
GUY: "Do you have those floating keychains?"
ME: "No."
GUY: "I think I've asked you that before."
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It's a gas, gas, gas!
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I might.
"It's over for us. If this oil comes ashore, it's just over for us," Rowell said angrily, rubbing his forehead. "Nobody wants no oily shrimp."
"Oh, That Wifey!"
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My dog.
3 comments:
If you were really a smaht guy, you'd have floating keychains.
Do they make bubblewrap keychains?
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