📚 From Friday:
“It’s Christian Dior, asshat.”
“Asshat?” So, they were throwing down, were they? “Well maybe only put on twenty bucks worth next time.” Stone slipped on his boxers, figuring he’d shower the Christian Dior, hundred and thirty buck rank off once the jerk left. “And let some hair grow back between your legs, why don’t ya? It’s like going down on an eel or a Ken doll.”
“I didn’t hear any complaints at the time.” Joe Hollywood was at the exit. “I, on the other hand, could barely find the tree for the forest. Wouldn’t hurt you to take a machete to the bush once in a while, would it?”
