Saturday, August 23, 2008
Green Glasses
It’s a lazy Saturday here in Los Angeles for your humble narrator. I sit on my rug, hung over and stubbly. I scratch myself in inappropriate places and think, “Whither the Jerzscrote?”
But, as much as I’d like to Lysol my eyeballs then scrub them with bleach and cayenne pepper, I can’t.
Because little Kimberly just turned 18. And she needs rescuing.
Before Green Glasses makes “da move.”
