HARV appeared in front of me, arms crossed, head tilted. “You really should read your e-mails from Randy more carefully,” he lectured. “I skim them,” I protested. “Well, if you skimmed them more carefully you would know that prolonged expos...
HARV, can you help at all here?” I asked, spinning downward. “I am writing your obituary. Well, not so much writing it as updating it,” HARV told me. If I lived, I was going to kill HARV.
Walking into Nova Hollywood, I remembered why I didn’t come here more often. I like a good slice of cheese as much as the next guy, but this place would be too cheesy for a giant mutant rat who had been starving for a week.
My number one fear is heights. Well, not so much the heights but the falling from heights. Actually the falling isn’t that bad (I have a strong heart), it’s the sudden stops that are painful. Believe me — I experienced it once.
Thing is, I am not a big fan of hovers. I firmly believe that if man was meant to fly we’d have feathers, rubber bones, or better insurance coverage.
So, what you’re basically telling me is death is boring but no worse than hanging out with family.
Twoa said, obviously still in my brain. "It was my pheromones," she said defensively. I looked up at her; she was sniffing herself. She looked down at me. "Okay, maybe it wasn’t ALL the pheromones," she admitted. "Nobody makes a good deodorant for ...
