Silvia: "Read my inflamatory digit: it's THOMAS, Fuck-o!"
divorced caterpillar--only half size
This evening sees Silvia preparing for a big date!
Silvia: "You needn't sound so surprised, Fucko!"
bug in biking shorts!
She squired her date around the main drag like a King, in her Passion-Mobile (actually a 1992 'Reliant')
& INDEED, her date looked Glamorous...
She (Silvia) had planned a lovely evening--
URINATE IN THE ROBOT C.E.O.'s MOUTH, WIN A PRIZE
The Anarchist's Carnival...
Finally, they had dinner at a french resaurant...
or, perhaps it would be more accurate to say, they engaged in some heavy necking in a greesy spoon at 11:42pm.
All too soon, it was time to call it a night...
OR WAS IT!?
Th' Date: "Ohh...Thomas...let's do..."
Th' Date: "Let's SMASH IN SOME CAR WINDOWS & GO FOR SOME SPORTSCAR HIGHWAY JOY RIDES!"
Yes, it was indeed time to call it a night. Silvia capped off the evening with a brisk 2-mile jog home.
& later that evening, as she engaged in an age-old passtime, she asked an age-old question:
Silvia: "Why are the hot ones always batshit?"