Go see old virgins! Now ask a strange boy out, you shy, Retarded thing!

Before I take you into the beating heart of the story, let’s get one thing out of the way. I know from experience that when it comes up later, it will distract you so much that you won’t be able to concentrate on anything else I will tell you. My name is Jubilee Dougal. Take a moment and let it sink in.

Go see old virgins! Now ask a strange boy out, you shy, Retarded thing!

And if we get caught, I will claim I made you go. At gunpoint. I am American. People will assume I'm armed.

One of them hung a pink bra from our lighting fixture. I left it there. It was a nice bra

It rang and it rand and it rang. I looked at the screen one last time, then at Stuart, and then I reached my arm back and threw the phone as hard as I could (sadly, not that far), and it vanished into the snow. The eight-year-olds, who were truly fascinated with our every move at this point, chased after it. 'Lost it,' I said. 'Whoops.

Oh, the ongoing love affair between hair and mouths. Hair always goes for the mouth. The mouth opens, and hair says, "I'm going in! I'm going in!" like a manic cave diver.