Spit and string is all you really need. Wish I had a third hand so you could hold it while I scrape the toast with the other two.
Feeling extravagant, exuberant, euphoric? Rich with clichés? A hope and a prayer? A song and dance? Dogs and ponies? Bring it all on. Count me in, a bit battered and bruised, but all in just the same. More so. Nothing a cute bandaid can’t remedy.
The Lunch Encounter 