have no fear, women are like buses. if you miss one, there'll be another one along any minute to run you over.
(some day I will go too far I know I will...)
and then you'll only be a half-mile behind me, Micko me boyo. still, that's close enough; when the wind blows wrong i can get too good of a whiff of ya, and it takes a week to uncross my eyes. pew!
still, this growing Canuck contigent is worrysome. what's that all aboot?
