Trisha G.: I always seem to forget how fragile are the very strong.
Trisha G.: Seriously, my phone is completely awesome. I might make love to it tonight.
Trisha G.: Yard salad.
Trisha G.: Just some corn.
Trisha G.: Yes, we can.
Trisha G.: Wrapped around my son with only the knowledge of the words of the world & a quiet remembrance of watching before this all began.
Trisha G.: Now face north.
Trisha G.: There are avenues and supplements and books stacked on the shelf.
Trisha G.: The guy ain't right.
Trisha G.: In my dream, he told me to hold the secret of his birth safe & teach him when he forgot.
Trisha G.: The foot of a genius.
Trisha G.: Field with Robbie.
Trisha G.: She lives in the place in the side of our lives where nothing is ever put straight.
Trisha G.: Truck.
Trisha G.: Those two were just so bad at the frisbee golf.
Trisha G.: ttv.
Trisha G.: Dead farmer's truck.
Trisha G.: Kirk Cameron Bunny.
Trisha G.: Sky pron.
Trisha G.: No double-hits, bitches.