texts: Hawk, all I need is one ding on the Volvo and presto! There are my balls hanging from the rearview mirror after she gets back from Cincinnati. </s> <s> And when is she due back from that groinecologist's convention anyway? </s> <s> Sunday, but...
labels: Then lighten up. She'll never know we touched it. Alright, here's the plan. We bus it to chez Lex, grab the Volvo, bail Jam the hell outta St. Bernard's and arrive at the train station precisely on time for the 2:45 to Detroit.