We Create Our Own Worlds. We Destroy

I Stop Working At About 3 P.m. On Fridays.

He Was Pushing Fifty, With A Face Life Had Chewed On, And Long Wisps Of Graying Hair Parted Low On One Side And Combed Over His Balding Pate.

Everyone Is Doing Forensics.

I Like Crazy Shoes Or Unusual Cowboy Boots And I Collect Big Belt Buckles.

I Won't Put Myself In A Position Where I'm Vulnerable.