OK. I know this isn’t twitter, but I am now going to D’Amico’s for coffee beans, and then the dreaded inspection at Alba on 4th Ave. I shall wait in the cafe Root Hill on the corner of Carroll St. and Forth Ave. while the vital procedure is taking place. I’m wearing an orange sweater. So, see you there.
One of the doormen in our building here is named Elvis.
One word.
BALONEY.
OK. I know this isn’t twitter, but I am now going to D’Amico’s for coffee beans, and then the dreaded inspection at Alba on 4th Ave. I shall wait in the cafe Root Hill on the corner of Carroll St. and Forth Ave. while the vital procedure is taking place. I’m wearing an orange sweater. So, see you there.
“BH = The What”
No, but it would be HILARIOUS if it was, and that’s why What was so nice to me!
stevie, you were homeless and probably in diapers when I first started sparring with the What.
Your cut-and-pastes are a sorry excuse for the superior ability that the What had for that.
“Long live the King! Long live the What!”
Elvis and SDFL forever!
I think you’re looking for the down arrow, biff.
BH = The What
Long live the King! Long live the What!