He had to pull strings.

All my mom had to do was get on the waiting list, wait for a bit of a break on same, and exercise that white-haired little-old-lady charm that she's been resorting to in the last couple of decades. (It's her best chance for manipulating people since she chopped her breasts off a while back to ease up on her back problems. As a matter of fact, I think the white hair might work better than the breasts did. After all, my mother always gets her way, and I don't always get mine. Perhaps I ought to dye my hair white.)

Posted by: Attila Girl at 07:21 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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