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I didn't cry. Later on at the ballgame, I will buy myself candy, possibly a stuffed animal albeit a *manly* stuffed animal.
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Friday, June 26, 2009
The Annals of Man (Cont.)
I didn't cry. Later on at the ballgame, I will buy myself candy, possibly a stuffed animal albeit a *manly* stuffed animal.
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5 comments:
My (certified; not to be confused with certifiable) wound nurse wife says you should wash it or it will scab over with dirt in it and not heal as well.
What will you do with those pasty white thighs?
Here's a nice story. I fell down just before we left for the
A's game Friday. A fellow in the row in front of us pointed out my wound, and I said it was fine. He left and came back in five minutes with antiseptic pads, gauze and big bandages. And they say chivalry is dead. Well, not chivalry exactly, but you know what I mean.
What will we do with those pasty white A's
You see ugly, I see the foreshadowing of 25 beautiful swans.
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