I met a girl named Biscuit the other night at the show. She breathed on my friend’s neck and kissed him while he snapped a self-portrait with his cellphone camera. That’s when her old man showed up, and we didn’t see Biscuit again. All that remained was the smell of her shampoo, and the picture on my buddy’s cellphone. It made his weekend, and he really needed his weekend to be made.


4 thoughts on “Biscuit

  1. I think I know Bisquit. Need to see the picture ASAP. As a matter of fact, we are having beverages now! Is she a ball of fire or what!?

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