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I could convince her my name was Roger.
I mean, she'd have no reason to doubt me.
He's got weedy arms and Roger's notoriously take ages to come.
gun up saps. gun up.
It's a weird compulsion I have. Not sure if it is because I find that my life isn't that interesting or that I just enjoy doing it. I sometimes surprise myself about all the little details I manage to keep going.
A million thank yous to laughing mahoney for mentioning the phrase "homeopathic dentist" on here, it's been a staple of my stranger chat for the past few months.
I find myself unable to lie when drunk, I find it too stressful.
People always seem to ask you what you do, maybe it's how I dress I don't know. But my pals and I all have pseudojobs. For instance, I restore murals for a living.....often I restore murals inside lighthouses, it's great because I get to travel, see a lot of the country you wouldn't normally see, meet fantastic people and get to work with fascinating pieces of art.
A mate of mine, for some bizarre reason, found a place that printed a load of business card for free. It has his name and hen soemthing like 'paving, greenhouses and bagpipes' written on it which backs up his story of being a handyman bagpipe cleaner or whatever it is.
She'd just be wanting that sweet dick of yours.
Roger by nature