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.
No comments:
Post a Comment