It doesn't take hydrogen gas. Or riding a shuttle.
Or snorting on the whitest, finest powder this side of La-la-land.
(It might take an extra spoonful of sugar, but maybe that's just me.)
Say hello, shutterbug
Fiction, I write
Mirror Mirror #21: Somebody once told me, when I flirt I sound positively sarcastic. Vile charges. But maybe that explains my singular status?