He who laughs last is generally the one that thought fastest on his feet,

Shall I show him in or tell him to go find a short and unpleasant route to hell?

I'm raising jailbait in a valley full of horny soldiers; it is never too early to start drinking.

This is too complicated. What about I shoot him? If he comes back, he really likes me.

Is it just me or is this like a bad TV sci-fi show?

I feel the older I get, the more I'm learning to handle life. Being on this quest for a long time, it's all about finding yourself.