umpteenth time that these idiots forgive us for life.
In September 1998, during one of his sloppy and capricious truces, wrote in a newspaper that no longer exists (in that they let me write) that the truce would not last and compared it with the kinds of smokers. It's hard to leave and the temptation to resume the habit with the smallest excuse is strong. Unfortunately, I was right.
I left him the third. The snuff, I say. Without patches.
____________________________ ____________________
0 comments:
Post a Comment