squawk
My tits are sagging. I think they might be melting. Damn Tuscaloosa's humidity.
I crossed the street with a China girl the other day. She carried an umbrella. We spoke. I could not pronounce her name. I still cannot pronounce her name. She told me she loves Dickenson's poems. I shook her hand. It was frail.
Granny's not doing so well. And that's the point.
I crossed the street with a China girl the other day. She carried an umbrella. We spoke. I could not pronounce her name. I still cannot pronounce her name. She told me she loves Dickenson's poems. I shook her hand. It was frail.
Granny's not doing so well. And that's the point.