Suddenly though he was resurrected, jesus style, and began to collect his thoughts. Feeling sorry for Peppy but not able to let go over her "Shes stil... got some good fuckin left in her" - so he piled her into the back of his car and headed for hollywood, the home of dog fucking since 1902. When he reached hollywood he pulled up to the tonight show, with Jew Leno, and wrapped Peppy in a fine cloth made of similar material to the shirt Arnold Schwarezneggar wore in Terminator 3. Feeling. .. then YOU..." she was in my arms, weeping."Easy, little one ... everything's okay. You an' me, right? Forever..."She turned a tearful face to me, taking a deep breath. "I love you, Alan." I love you too, darlin'" I said. "What's all this got to do with soup? Or babies?" I'm sorry," she said. "I think I know what just happened..." What?" Period. 'Bout to start ... You know how I get..." I only know that I adore you, period or not," I said."Good answer," she retorted, still in my arms. In. His short, messy, black hair. The small diamond studs in his ears. I couldn’t get him out of my mind. I looked back up at him and I could tell he had been studying me. “I don’t want you to freak out or anything but do you want to go grab a bite to eat? I mean its 7pm and I guess I would just assume you didn’t eat before but I mean if you did that’s no big deal.” “Sure. I would love to.” “Really? You would? Oh alright, cool.” Why was he acting so nervous? There was no way he could be into me. He. Kim couldn't believe his arrogance, as she watched him saunter to the front door. Hauteur seeming to flow from him like water from a faucet. She reluctantly admitted, to Alice, that the young Mexican might be able to justify his arrogance with his looks. He wasn't much older than she was. He had longish hair, but not so long that he could wear it in a pony tail. His body was slim, and his movements were graceful, like a fighter, or a matador. Kim just happened to be standing a few paces behind.
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