While certainly not the street drug, the "crack" could be the beginning of something new, the split of my pants, or the demise of my angst-ridden mind. Which one am I serving up today? Read on. Feel free to comment, argue, dismiss, or inform. I welcome it all.
Iron . . .
Am I the ONLY person that sees this photo and immediately wonders why they don't have an iron or someone with some pride to help these flags and curtains out a little?
(And I wonder why people often presume (and argue) that I'm gay.)