So, Friday at the office, Cypher and I were discussing the apparent heat wave that will be hitting the area Sunday and into the beginning of next week. We drifted into a discussion of how to cool off on these random, early fall, hot-ass days.
"Star, honey, all you gots to do is get yourself some ice and put it on your neck, your feet and in your crotchal region. But hey, just beware of hypothermia, y'know?"
"Whoa...that'd be a helluva way to end it, eh? I can hear it now: 'Officer, the cause of death...well, we found ice...in her...downstairs kitchen...' 'Is that a fact? Well, I hear it's good eats in that kitchen...'"
I don't know about you Chronicle readers, but that shit cracked me & Cypher the funk up.
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Don't Start Shit and There Won't Be Shit.
Keepin' Track of Our Peeps (marshmallow and otherwise)
The Cypher Chronicles
...as told through the filtered mind of Star.
Star & Cypher: the only members of an organized criminal task force known only to insiders as, Soul Sisters #9. Here is the story of these two conjoined twins, fused together at the spine so they can still double dutch. I gotchyer back, sister.
Star & Cypher: the only members of an organized criminal task force known only to insiders as, Soul Sisters #9. Here is the story of these two conjoined twins, fused together at the spine so they can still double dutch. I gotchyer back, sister.
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