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Mind you, he had also told Paul that groping a woman’s breast felt like squeezing a roast chicken.
She had that ‘farm strong’ look about her too, not fat or muscly, just that kind of firmness that implied she could wrestle a cow if she had to.
Rather than eating it, it elected to urinate on it instead. As reviews went, it was pretty damning.
“I mean, I’d much rather a stranger tried to kill me than somebody I knew well.”
It gave the disconcerting impression that one of them was keeping lookout while the other went about its nefarious business.
In the meantime, he was dotting the ‘I’s and crossing the ‘T’s, waiting for the S and the H to show up.
Tall, blonde, skinny. Breasts that looked so impossibly pert, they reminded Paul of intensely interested meerkats.
thought it would only be appropriate to have him stuffed and put in the hall too, but apparently there’s rules.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like the idea of there being a God, he’d just never seen evidence, and he of all people needed that.
turns out she is quite jumpy. Not to mention bitey.
