Fella points over his shoulder toward the back of the room.
Our intrepid hero, Peter Pronghorn, slings back his head. He lifts his glass and pours cold beer down his throat. I slams his empty glass down hard upon the bar and says:
I dunno 'bout the rest of you guys, but when I hear a little gal sayOh, George! It felt good to get that off my chest. Posted by notGeorge at May 9, 2004 09:18 PM | TrackBackPrepare t' be boarded! -[Ith]I suddenly begin smilin' to myself. I will be readyin' the gangplank.
Read into that what you must. I know you can't help yourself, you pervert.