Driving home alone (ie, no conversation) with lots of coffee coursing through my veins. It's the only way I feel love...it's the same reason I wrote mom and dad's brilliant poems.
"(Warning: It is NOT good sister behaviour to notice a few hairs on your little sister's upper lip in these photos, and then embark on a lengthy campaign to get her to wax her mustache. Again, DO NOT do this)"
This is NOT good sister behavior? ha, i beg to differ, not my bike.
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It was not JUST A FEW HAIRS.
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Suddenly I feel a lot more noble about the whole thing.
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This is NOT good sister behavior? ha, i beg to differ, not my bike.
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