T'Was the Night Before Christmas
Last night, while I was nestled all snug in bed, visions of Monica Belluci softly spanking Isabelle Adjani for dropping the French tickler dancing through my head, some asshole was crashing into my car, as you can see from the note card left by the nice police officer who apprehended the bastard. Luckily, I'm a sound sleeper, and, therefore, was able to continue on with my spank inferno reverie despite the cacophony of twisting metal and exploding glass.
Christmas miracles happen, is what I'm saying.
The very best wishes to you and yours on this day of wonders,
from Biff Loman and the red, wet leather-clad elves at The Truth*
posted by Biff Loman at 10:02 AM
2 Comments:
It must have been some dream. This is always better than confronting the bastard who crashed your car. We'd have missed you after the cops dragged you away for pounding him into the ground.
Which is exactly what would have happened, as I've got a bit of a temper and consciousness for me is just a state of barely controlled rage. There's a good chance that if I'd caught him and the police were never called or around, I'd still be beating him now.
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