I hear tell it’s hot out there. Here, it is not. I spent my early evening under a cloudless 70-degree sky wrestiling with a mister-tyle soaker hose and recalling heatwaves I have known in the past.
Come visit. It’s in the sixties in the basement.
I hear tell it’s hot out there. Here, it is not. I spent my early evening under a cloudless 70-degree sky wrestiling with a mister-tyle soaker hose and recalling heatwaves I have known in the past.
Come visit. It’s in the sixties in the basement.
LA kegger in the works? Sounds like you need to hit Bevmo.