|
this thread has got the dust blown ghost town blues. not even a clik clak of spur boots on hardwood is heard.
in the grub corner the Soup Nazis has gone neuron from too much winning thrills to the synapses. Such was going to buy Mexican garbs but past out from a kush coma. *#*%& is busy tossing bean salads for tomorrow's lunch boarding with whores.
ghost town atmosphere abounds. smoking man leaves trails that he was here.
|