Well THAT went well. I'm coming home with delicious breakfast.
For those of you who haven't been let in on the news, I've got a very large scan of the paper for you to read. I'd love to say that the chief was right, that I've got God-given powers, but I know she wouldn't do something as silly as give me awful dreams that tell the future. She'd probably just make out with me and make my dick glow for a week. No offense, Gigi, but you know you would.
I smell like North Dakota. Time for a shower.
Where did the writer for this article learn Journalism, from a crackerjack box? You're not writing pulp novels, Mr. Wills, you're writing an article.