Lord Borr marched his line of men back to the classroom, his hands on his hips and his third chin pressed to his stiffly to his chest. He started to pace in the front of the classroom, distraught with going ons in his office.
"Sit down, men. Sit down. We need to have a talk."
__________________ 
Someone unimportant whose name slips my memory made this signature.
Twas Lady Borr who did it, sir!
Boor's bringin' sexy back and yall just hatin'
Kingston: Marry me my lord. We're perfect for each other. |