The Minutes of Our Last Meeting – Trump’s Biggly Funeral Plans
Then take my body and put me behind the wheel of a golf cart strapped to a rocket ship and have the Space Force blast me to the stars.
Then take my body and put me behind the wheel of a golf cart strapped to a rocket ship and have the Space Force blast me to the stars.
By morning, he had decided he needed somewhere nobody cared about theater, someplace where the name Chekhov was more likely to be mistaken for a rifle than a playwright.