“I did that.” Colin's voice rings out proudly. “Thongs are disgusting. Bacteria trapping strips. Unhealthy. Really unhealthy.” I turn my glare to Colin, my lips rolling in on themselves. “Oh,” Samson says, finally understanding the conversation, tipping his head to the side. “Yeah, they are kind of gross now that I think about it. You wear those, Pickle?” Where's my fucking avalanche?
