It was a cold night. The wind chimed in rapturous melody, and all my friends were busy in the musical exertions prompted by the DJ. It was a time to rejoice. But alas, it was not mine. For hardly an hour had passed since my mobile got stolen. And here...
“My fingernails had grown too long. In restaurants, waiters stopped offering me forks; they assumed I'd just harpoon my food without silverware.”from - The Smarter Phony, read the full article...
GTFO, 2016. And close the door behind you. | The Blah Blahs and the Yada Yadas says:
Dennis Levin says:
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