Callie: So let's all get gussied up and meet back in front of Town Hall at high noon.
Bounds, mounds, lounds, founds, kounds, downds, rounds, pounds, zounds! — hounds — ha! hounds — I have it.
‘God, eh? Which god? You whore, you loathsome hilding.’
My then-boyfriend-now-husband scared the hell out of me that day in 1991, both because he wasn't the type to wail and because he was suggesting that I do something pretty Kevorkianesque.
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