I say they've earned a little help from above. You'd think I would have seen that coming. Chicks don't dig a scrub on crutches, and he dropped out of the honeys' hearts, off the team, and flunked out of school when he failed his 'Remedial Shoe-Tying' class for the third time. He's currently a senior vice president in his father's corporation, pulling in six figures a month and blowing most of it on European hash and Filipina hookers. And those fragile little bastards are expensive, so clearly you can't have that.
Maybe that's just me.
Or not considered at all, frankly. Half of them kick me in the shins when I walk by already. He never played much, but parlayed his team sweats and official practice jersey into the dorm rooms of most of the sorority chapters on campus.
But I've been seeing a lot of sloppy play out there, and way too many mental mistakes.
Those false starts are killing us.
Chicks don't dig a scrub on crutches, and he dropped out of the honeys' hearts, off the team, and flunked out of school when he failed his 'Remedial Shoe-Tying' class for the third time. You'd think I would have seen that coming.
Don't say anything stupid.
For fun, she highlights rude passages from Chaucer, translates limericks from Gaelic, and beats the living bejesus out of the other teachers at Scrabble.
Also, I watch a lot of football on TV. I stood up for my report, and announced that instead of project status, I was going to describe a wedding I recently attended. It's true; I made it nearly twenty-six years without witnessing a hitching, until I was blissfully wedlocked myself. When it isn't, I can always spend an afternoon Googling old pals' names, out of curiosity. Or maybe we could make do with a patron saint of candy-armed head case closers.
There've got to be a few thousand of those things lying around up there somewhere. I don't want any more of those cramping issues we had last week.
This is why we don't have goodnight kisses at two AM any more.
Can I just get some pious prat to pray to, to give me a fighting chance?
For fun, she highlights rude passages from Chaucer, translates limericks from Gaelic, and beats the living bejesus out of the other teachers at Scrabble.
Several years of 'making up for lost time' later, she settled down with three-quarters of a Harley crew in Ohio and lived kick-assedly ever after. I'll just lie on the couch, listening to tunes and shoving Cheetos down my gullet like a good lazy weekend boy.
But I've been seeing a lot of sloppy play out there, and way too many mental mistakes.