Monday, February 14, 2011

Home is Where the Heart Is

Somebody once told me that home is where the heart is.  Naturally, I was appalled, but I didn't want to raise his suspicion, so I told him that I hoped it was at least wrapped up and stored in a refrigerator, because otherwise, eww, and then at the first chance I got I notified the authorities.  Some murderers aren't very good at being discreet.

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