Absolutely bupkus on the radar today. It's that time of the month, so I'm ravenous, but the food I have has to last until Monday. I wish I had some applesauce or Pop-Tarts or spaghetti with meat sauce. God, now I want Carrabbas'. I want Outback or Ruby Tuesday's or chips and salsa and tostada with carne, queso, y frijol. I want food. I want ribs and ham and salami and...
But until Monday, it's pork, potatoes, and Gatorade.
Part III of my
lyric_ficathon fic stands at 2,192 words. After leaping to the painfully wrong conclusion, sticking his nose in Flack's business, and winding up with a smashed proboscis for his efforts, Danny is trying to do right by Flack, though he really needn't worry. Mac isn't going to cost Flack his badge and throw him to the psychiatry wolves. Poor Danny. He's doing his best to take care of the best friend he's got left.
But until Monday, it's pork, potatoes, and Gatorade.
Part III of my
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