My friend Gary’s three young daughters had him up at 5:30 a.m., and one of them ate his yogurt, so if he wants to order two breakfasts for himself when he gets the hell out of Hell, I am not going to question it.
Watching the Jets at Sharkeez.
Cute, but I hope they don’t get shitcanned like the members of Menudo when they reach a certain age.
Puppy party for my nephew’s birthday.
Does a mini-sized Pinkberry count as payment? If so, yes.
Donating blood at the Red Cross.
I swear I don’t live in the ghetto, but this ain’t helping.
Chicken coop down the street.
Ricky, contemplating lunch.
Chicken coop down the street.
