reesesWeb

I bought the car today, and I was taking Kat around for a drive after she got home. We had the sunroof and windows open, pulled out of our garage, and boom -- Kat was divebombed by a cicada.

You should have seen that girl fly. She screamed, closed her eyes and refused to open them, screamed again, demanded I pull the car over so she could get out, and screamed once more to make sure the screaming bases were covered.

On the bright side, a gorgeous girl chatted me up as I was walking to the car dealership to let me know that I had a cicada hanging out on my shoulder, said shoulder being the one cicada-free surface in Maryland.

She even talked to me in pirate after referring to my cicada as a trainer parrot, which is enough to confuse any man.

I don't have to rely upon my stunning good looks and ripped physique to pull the babes -- I have wingmen.

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