Imagine going on a Sunday drive with Roger. Not running any errands, or hurrying to go anywhere. You had a tank full of gas and a bunch of snacks in the back.

You were a car repair shops's boss' daughter. Which was very helpful, to say the least. You occasionally fixed vehicles, getting oil all over you. It wasn't the glamorous job that was until you met Roger. You were under a car, oil stains all over your white tank top, denim shorts ripped. "Excuse me?" A man's voice said. You rolled yourself from under the car, standing up. Taking a towel from the hood of the car you said, "Yes, sir?" You wiping the sweat and grime off your forehead and arms. "I was wondering if you could fix a 1956 convertible." He asked pointing to the pale yellow car, behind him. "Sure can do. You can pick it up tomorrow. And there's my number if you need anything." He winked at me, leaving the car there and my hopes high.

You grabbed a map from your purse and Roger immediately swatting at it. "Hey!" You screaming. "We're not going anywhere in particular so let it be." You turned up the radio. "This is for a special person." The man on the radio said. "Gimme Shelter by the Stones."
Roger stopped in a car lot. You climbed
in the backseat. Roger did the same, kissing you passionately. You made out, in the backseat, like you dreamed about.

It's Keefmas. Merry Keefmas to you all. Happy Birthday, to half of the Glimmer Twins.
Love the astro-badger