Then there was the time I was having drinks in Hell’s Kitchen, at the bar on Eighth Avenue emblazoned with the name Smith’s in bold neon, with two undercover cops, and a fireman who retired at the age of 30 from disability.
Good one, Russell.
Thank you, Mary!
Great grisly story! I used to type autopsy reports as my day job, none so interesting as this one however.
Oh wow!
Good one, Russell.
Thank you, Mary!
Great grisly story! I used to type autopsy reports as my day job, none so interesting as this one however.
Oh wow!