So much for the bimbo alert; if she read books like that, then there was a light on upstairs, above the splendid front porch.
—C.I. Dennis
If I was in deep shit with Lilian before, I was snorkeling at the waste treatment plant now.
No wonder Thanksgiving was my favorite—you can’t buy it, wrap it, or put it under a tree, and even the greeting card companies can’t seem to make a buck off of it. It’s just a...
I’d spent my whole career dealing with badasses taking care of my nine-month-old boy should be a lark.
She came through the door the moment my beer arrived. Fortyish, salon-blonde, spray tan, fake boobs and real diamonds. Anywhere else it would be a bimbo alert, but in Florida it was just protective coloration.
Do Not Sell My Personal Information
Exercise your consumer rights by contacting us below Privacy Policy
[email protected]
Personalized advertisements
Turning this off will opt you out of personalized advertisements delivered from Google on this website.