My mom, Who and I had a barbeque on the porch.
Twenty-two years old and I still don't know how to work a goddamn gas barbeque.
I don't know about Who...
But my mom does.
Although she is easily distracted.
Who won't eat the centers of onions.
"Someone hung my mister!"
"I think he hung himself."
She wasn't buying it. Incidentally, that jar of Vegenaise went bad the October before. Luckily we discoverd this before attempting to eat it.
This is the usual disclaimer in the basement of my neurologists' building about chemicals causing birth defects. It seems like you would strive to avoid carcinogins as much as possible in a medical building, but maybe I'm crazy.
Eric got this awesome coat at Amvets.
I think he opted against this one.