Don’t skid mark my undies, man.

The cool kids at work, a guy and girl, are six feet tall and wander in each morning like a couple of gunslingers who don’t care if the sheriff is in or not. They only shoot finger guns, but it’s all the same to me. They’re high on espresso and ambition, while I’m akin toContinue reading “Don’t skid mark my undies, man.”