I’m 80 Years Old and I Remember When The Poodle Dog Got Stuck Between My Legs
I know, I know. At my age, I’m supposed to get all wise old crone and impart the wisdom of the ages. But when I sit down to do some reflection, yes, I want to know where it’s all gone. But I’m not necessarily talking about the years, the old friends, the tight little booty that used to look so good in my jeans.