I’d Given Up On The White Picket

You Tried To Slide His Original Curse Back Onto Him?” Al Said In Wonder. “at The Restaurant? And I Stopped You? Sweet Mother Pus Bucket!” He Exclaimed, And I Swear, Dust Sifted From The Ceiling. “rachel, We Have To Work On This Communication Thing.

Okay, I Like Him,” I Admitted. “but It Takes More Than A Nice Body, Jenks. Jeez, I Do Have A Little Depth. You’ve Got A Great Body, And You Don’t See Me Trying To Get Into Your Fruit Of The Looms.

The Car Was Full Of Unhappy People Heading West. It Was The Great American Family Road Trip, All Right. Whaaa-hoo!

Rache,” He Said, Trying To Get Into My Line Of Sight. “what More Do You Need? God To Send A Telegram?" (jenks)

You Need A New Hobby, Rachel. Something Other Than Nasty Little Men With Visions Of World Domination.