"Dear Beatrice..."
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"...I don't know how the hell you come up with stupid ideas like these; he
can't drive, he just can't. I know that your brain is as big as a nut, but please,
understand my hatred this time.
It's your fault this time, don't try to make me change my mind.
Come pick us up now; we are not far from Libra.
Bring some money to get us out, and a bottle of Tabasco: you
owe me one stupid bee. Go to hell."
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- Feb 11, 2021
- 4:46 PM EST
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- Illustration
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