In which there are cute firemen.
As I walked up the street to India Cafe to get some take-out for lunch, I saw three fire engines, two cop cars, and three volunteer firefighters in trucks with blue flashing lights on their dashboards, all go screamin’ by, westbound on Burlington.
Apparently something large is trying to burn down.
I’m assuming it’s not a meth lab blowing up because I didn’t see any HazMat.
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Heh-heh, you said “Assume”.
Goofball. đŸ˜‰ -m
I’ve thought about switching careers and becoming a firefighter just for the stud status… and the occasional free meth high from exploding meth labs.
Don’t forget: When you are “assuming,” you are making an “ass” out of “u” and “ming.”
Wait. Something about that’s not right. Who’s Ming? Is he your new best gay blog friend? I’m going to take my plastic knife and turn him into sushi. HAH!
Firemen are hot.*giggle*
You will always be my best gay blog friend, dear. No one gives IM like you do. And firemen are hot! -m
I like firemen. Specially the pole.
Hush, my little whore. -m
smoke eaters and pole smokers.
I think it’s time you got yourself a boyfriend. đŸ˜‰ -m
The building behind my office was on fire. Well, it wasn’t blazing, but there was a fire. It was a fun afternoon yesterday.