The apocalypse is no place for left-brained extroverts.
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Don’t make me use it.
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Now you … still do, actually.
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But who can blame him?
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Sometimes you have to make your own adventures.
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…for large strongyles, that is.
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Not even a Gibson.
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Can’t blame us for being a little on edge.
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Now THAT’s scary!
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He’s unrecognizable.
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Gone riding, leave a message at the beep.
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Do we need stall rest or burn ointment for this??
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It is a looooong way down.
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…and three quarts of barely for Gibson.
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The waters prevailed exceedingly over the earth.
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If life seems jolly rotten, there’s something you’ve forgotten.
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I have to have the best dressed horse in this apocalypse.
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