‘cause they’re kids and don’t have their stuff together yet.
It’s a bit of a reach, but I’m cool with it, despite my current problem—but no big one. No one really listens anyway.
Where did your home run land? Goose Bay, Labrador?
Interesting to note that the Romans made kitchenware out of lead, and food cooked in a leaden pot would make for severe mental derangement. That’s one interesting theory I read about somewhere.
Well, there are pube combs—for lice, to be sure—so why wouldn’t there be a soul patch comb? I’ll bet Dizzy Gillespie had one. I have a patch, but I use a hay rake and a hedge trimmer to keep it in line. . .
That’s exactly what you should do, Tiff. You’ve got the bread. Grab your passport, call your dad, and get out of DeGrootville—maybe for good, if you’re smart, and you seem to be getting that way. Maybe Pops would come join you, and wouldn’t that be nice?
And how about that odor?
Oh, I’m sure Pastis will be eagerly awaiting your visit.
It brought down the Roman Empire.