I check my lip-gloss in the bathroom mirror; gently run the tip of my tongue along it like I’m a bomb squad guy handling a hair-trigger explosive.
Continue reading Brawny Diva Goes For A Latte by Ryan Sayles
I check my lip-gloss in the bathroom mirror; gently run the tip of my tongue along it like I’m a bomb squad guy handling a hair-trigger explosive.
Continue reading Brawny Diva Goes For A Latte by Ryan Sayles
So you’re out of breath when you swing open the trunk’s lid and you eyeball the space inside there and compare it to the dead hooker cooling ever so slightly at your feet.
Continue reading It Just Goes Downhill From Here By Ryan Sayles