So...It was good. It was worth it. Because of a pickles and salami sandwich with a side of beets, radishes, and a stupid head. I got engaged. He gave me the credit card. I ran away. Techno is not my style, neither is cinnamon sugar. Not to mention the Wilderness Cabin. I suppose its a good thing I never slept in there. I rolled into a hole and got stuck. So he licked the tire, she kissed the potty, and I hugged/kissed the bear. It was precious. My name is not Pick. My breathing is to relaxed for such a monstrosity. Not to mention the fact that my drool has tapered off quite a bit in the last decade. My sweetest downfall is doctor pepper, which is for sure why my boss gave me some...Enchanted makes me cry. So do people who throw away my targets and destroy all proof of a bulls eye. Those same people also mess with the sites to make me feel bad about my aim. I hope he sits on a rock and remains forgotten about. Seff is a fast driver. Fido is too. I am confused. I cant count. I got twenty dollars. I write the best hate letters known to the history of man. Exhibit A. You smell and look like the inside of a kybo that hasn't been pumped since 2002. Exhibit B. There comes a time in every relationship when the man screws up. That time is now. Exhibit C. You are bread and butter pickles. The whore of all pickles!...And that makes me the winner. Yah Bomb Shelter!!!! Yah Cows!!!! Yah Horses!!! Yah Slide!!! When I am in the car I close my eyes so I don't have to look at the spedometer. The cow in Evanston was doing it for the first time. Precious. Chinese makes my life. So do people who ask do you know anything about screws? I Heart My Life. The End
