Tuesday, March 17, 2009

My Roots.

It was October. Nikka and I were at Martin's Cove bored one night. It was late. We decided to go for a drive that we knew would end us at the grocery store. We go downstairs to find a distressed Grandmother eating Ice Cream cones on the couch.

Me: Grandma, we are going to the store- can we get you anything?
Grandma: Tequila. Thanks.
Me: Um...
Grandma: TEQUILA.

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