Once more I'm being made to work. What can I say?
Graham scratched the hell out of me last night while bouncing on my belly and saying "trot trot trot." We need to clip his nails.
So I'm headed off to this would-be swanky hedge fund gathering at the Union Club in Philly, home of substantial wood panelling, towering portraits of grey-hairs, and offset-printed paper towels in the wash room, and I'm looking like I had a night of passion with a tomcat. Just grand.
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
Nothin going on
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1 comment:
Thanks to my prodigious member all the hedge fund greyhairs want my male enhancement product magic!!
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