I worry about the cows, perhaps more so than other non-cow-owning people. Growing up, I lived in one house in Springfield, Virginia for nine years before we moved to the new house — with cows nearby.
My grocery store recently taped on the front of the egg case a cartoon chicken with its mouth open and wings spread out like a preacher or a politician. “We apologize as we are experiencing ...
Start the clock in the corner of the screen. but I do feel like they're lesbians, the cats. One cat, the eyes are big. The other seems nonplussed. Non-pussed? Okay, we're getting somewhere.