We're tolerant people. Our gate, which we're too slack to get out of the car to close, is always open to the community, but that doesn't mean we want hotties undulating in and doing it on our kitchen porch.
We're gonna be humiliated on Google Earth, I just know. Where are my dark glasses? ... When I hold my head down, I show chins. ... Please become me, parasols....
With this ring, I hope they thine wed.
Hey, giddy-ups! See that wall? Just beyond is where I keep my pleasing array of spreads and in-progress bottled relishes, endorsed by a cartoon stork toking a pickle. Don't do it near the eats, okay?
Sheesh, they didn't even comment in our guest book.
