I was driving on the LIE at the time, my son in the front seat. For me, underwear became the chicken soup for hole. So take out your ear buds and listen to your inner Yoda. I cried when Yellow by ColdPlay played. She felt safe for he was as comfortable as her favorite cotton shirt. Something clicked inside of me.
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I moaned with relief as I shook the powder that fell like snow on my thighs. Children taped their allowances to the bottom of their drawings. After dinner, about eight couples sat in a room where an affable looking priest with a red face and easy smile introduced himself as Father John. My Jewish father walked me down the aisle and kissed me on the cheek as he gave me away. You only shoot if someone whines. He thought they could use a lift and described in great, nauseating detail how it was done.