When I was growing up, we had to crank a handle to roll the car window up, pull our ice from a metal tray, and pen our "texts" on a piece of paper that had to be passed from person to person until it reached its intended reader.
And our wrestlers looked like this:
About Me
- Tania Rochelle
- Crazier than Life of a Harpy but not as crazy as KickMe-Jennifer.
1 comments:
That makes me sad....to think the art of note-passing has probably been replaced by abbreviated and impersonal text-messages.
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