If you were me and you managed to spill your coffee all the hell over the stairwell at work this morning, but still managed NOT to get any on your white sweater what would your ratio of pride:embarrassment be? I’m thinking about 5:3 right now.
How should I go about convincing Jeremy that we ought to get a kitten? Oliver needs a henchman.
Did my friend Sara B used to drink coffee through a straw back in 1994? Have I made this up or is it in fact true?