Me too - they end too late for me to watch the whole game and the NY papers go to bed before the game is over, so you can't even read about the game on the way to work.
Dear, sweet Harley Kwink...I'm madly in love with you. Marry me! We can go to Canadia. Or Boston or something. It'll be grand...You know the cookies are a given. They are ALWAYS a given. You could dump me tomorrow and you'd still get the cookies. Boston..shit, wherever dyke weddings were legalized. And where better to rub their little piggie noses in how bad they suck than right on their doorstep? What are they gonna do? Be jealous of you? Stare furiously at your tah-tahs? Not willingly give you cookies, but instead begrudgingly give you their cookies? Woman, time to wake up to the powers you wield - Uschi
