I'd say FISH or the trunk of the SUV... but you used those already... so I revert to the night where you dressed up in my corset and Catie toted you around on a leash... :P
I still have those pants, and wore them to the closing night of the ManRay in Boston. I looked hawt. o_O ... btw, though, it's a bumflap. One word, bumflap. Probably of british or scottish origin. Perhaps a truncated kilt. I remember my parents found the reciept for those and thought the bumflap was some sort of easy-access thing for boy-boy love.
30 - If you visit my hometown, I suggest: leaving 36 - I'd rather lick the belly of a cockroach than: have necrotizing faciitis
Those two statements are memory enough. But fine... I remember this one time we went to play lazer tag in Danvers. And I sucked. But I got better! (I'm not a newt any more either)
Perhaps when you come home there will be more memories, or distinct lacks of ones. *wink wink*
I look forward to it... but none of that waiting with baited breath. bait tends to smell really bad, and saliva enzymes probably don't help. That must have been some sort of locator beacon. Y'know, Joe is looking for Jane, who is waiting with baited breath, so Joe follows the reek of bait back to Jane, and hands her the scope before even saying "hi".
Throwing drugs out the window? Nights at the Hangar w/Jim? Extravaganja (the good year, when it was nice out)? The night you spent laying on my floor unconscious? The time we (almost) got written up in your room?
...despite these memories, though, good times were had by all. Let me know next time you're back East and you've got some free time.
good time, all. and i'll be home for the week between christmas and new years. I've sorta overused my leave recently, so I only get 10 days. 12/24 through 1/3
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Oh, good times, good times...
Oh yeah... butt flap.
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You know you lust for boy-boy love... ;)
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me falling asleep and thinking i dreamt something you actually said.
...and you let me believe that for a while, punk.
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36 - I'd rather lick the belly of a cockroach than: have necrotizing faciitis
Those two statements are memory enough. But fine... I remember this one time we went to play lazer tag in Danvers. And I sucked. But I got better! (I'm not a newt any more either)
Perhaps when you come home there will be more memories, or distinct lacks of ones. *wink wink*
Right.
Laters.
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Throwing drugs out the window?
Nights at the Hangar w/Jim?
Extravaganja (the good year, when it was nice out)?
The night you spent laying on my floor unconscious?
The time we (almost) got written up in your room?
...despite these memories, though, good times were had by all. Let me know next time you're back East and you've got some free time.
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