We’re at hour 9.5, and I would thrash a busload of orphans with my own forehead for a steak bearnaise with frites and a glass of really tannic red wine.
Saturday, July 29, 2006
We’re at hour 9.5, and I would thrash a busload of orphans with my own forehead for a steak bearnaise with frites and a glass of really tannic red wine.