Hey Gang.
I feel and smell like an ashtray, and not the fancy and futuristic Ronco kind either.
My voice is shot, my eyes burn, and I'm fairly certain that by tonight, I'll be struck by some sort of illness.
I'll tell you the details later, but suffice it to say this all happened thanks to/no thanks to Dennis Rodman.
See you soon,
Mike G.
No comments:
Post a Comment