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Tomorrow is Halloween, which means my fortress in the alcove will be beset by hordes of sticky-fingered children demanding teeth-rotting goodness. Unfortunately for the younglings, what little candy there is in the apartment is for my future dental woes, please and thank you. Besides, Pearson's Nips and Dum Dums are hardly the tres chic of the toddler set.
The wheelchair tinkerer cometh tomorrow topimp my ride fix my chair seat, back, and arms. WOOT! My poor drayhorse gets a well-deserved upgrade, bless it. Now when I go out in public, I won't feel like Hobocrip, with the denuded, padless armrests and the frayed seat back and the seat dripping toxic spooge with every butt squish.
I shudder to think of the inevitable bill for such extravagance, because I have no doubt Medicare will claim such things as a functional seat and a back sling not hanging by a thread and a prayer are "luxuries" and insist they are not covered because I don't "need" safe medical equipment. I just need some duct tape and a tetanus shot, Sparky.
And lastly, only on the Internet could I find words strung together in this precise order:
Not horrifically fappy, as wanks go but the Bible-bonking fundy-fapgasm on the part of the OP...
I love you, Internet.
The wheelchair tinkerer cometh tomorrow to
I shudder to think of the inevitable bill for such extravagance, because I have no doubt Medicare will claim such things as a functional seat and a back sling not hanging by a thread and a prayer are "luxuries" and insist they are not covered because I don't "need" safe medical equipment. I just need some duct tape and a tetanus shot, Sparky.
And lastly, only on the Internet could I find words strung together in this precise order:
Not horrifically fappy, as wanks go but the Bible-bonking fundy-fapgasm on the part of the OP...
I love you, Internet.
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