A Sharp Dressed Kennedy
So, today, I'm dressing up for you.
Usually, I write in boxers and in an ages-old black t-shirt with Triumph Motorcycles Co. screened on the front of it. The left sleeve is a little torn from a roughhousing I took at the hands of some woman in Starbucks, but that's another story for another time.
I won't tell you that some days I sit here pounding this keyboard in the nude. OK, I will tell you, but don't get too excited. It's not a pretty sight.
Today is different. I'm all dressed up. Slick khakis, sharp shirt, and even socks and underwear. Oh, and real shoes ... not my red crocs ...
What's the occasion, you ask?
Oh, that would be telling, now wouldn't it?
So, today, I'm dressing up for you.
Usually, I write in boxers and in an ages-old black t-shirt with Triumph Motorcycles Co. screened on the front of it. The left sleeve is a little torn from a roughhousing I took at the hands of some woman in Starbucks, but that's another story for another time.
I won't tell you that some days I sit here pounding this keyboard in the nude. OK, I will tell you, but don't get too excited. It's not a pretty sight.
Today is different. I'm all dressed up. Slick khakis, sharp shirt, and even socks and underwear. Oh, and real shoes ... not my red crocs ...
What's the occasion, you ask?
Oh, that would be telling, now wouldn't it?
