And, now, guys, a Three Musketeers bar, three times a month, and you ll be planting and plucking daisies for a year after your cohorts are pushing em up. Think about it. We re breathing the same air and drinking the same water as our ancestral Alley Oops on a Tyrannosaurus safari. Oh, since then, we ve shuffled the procreative cards and raised the level of the playing field in the house that green built, but a rose is a rose is a recycled recipe for our planetary stew pot. No explanation was given for this, but we know why, fellas.
Women already live forever.
They re made of chocolate. Until then, I ll be off chasing Mrs. Goodbar. All rights reserved.