Reminds me of the time my boys and I went to the roller rink and got trashed on the way home. We were practically free riding
with nothing but my truck and boos.Their mother never found out, thank god. Who knows what would happen to our marriage…..
Not getting why this cat didn’t knock/ring the doorbell instead of conceding so easily. Sounds like it could be a frat house and the case of beer would support that, but the porch, lawn chair & gnome make it seem like a place that he could have easily gotten someone’s attention via means other than a phone call. I also fail to understand why I have devoted so much time & thought to something that I don’t give a fuck about.
Unless his middle name is Miles Davis and he pulls out a fucking saxophone in the next 30 seconds I couldn’t give a flying fuck what term it is so you can keep your cancerous polyp insults to your pre op self you dirty little transgender homo. Go suck a nut.
I just as say have time for work and beer. And food.