and when we returned less than a minute later to retrieve it, the bus boy had thrown it in the trash. To be fair, he did tell us where to find Moonbeam, thus avoiding a tragedy of epic seven year old proportions. He did not apologize or acknowledge my crying daughter. We rescued Moonbeam ourselves. She is now 12 and we haven't been back since "the incident."
a pith helmet.
WTF are you babbling about?
The Vermin Poets, jerk.
of fucking money.
There's still a pay phone down here!
Jingo, Jingo Jingo Jingo.
The people would like to read an opinion piece about this.
glass, rock, lawyers and money.
come in to town and wondered what was up.
Now I know. Thanks, alibi!