Love gives you wings. And when you lose that love, you realize you’re just another schmuck with two legs.
Love gives you wings. And when you lose that love, you realize you’re just another schmuck with two legs.
Two hands with thumbs capable of grasping glasses of liquid courage for the next love object. Thumbs, wonderful appendages, often over-looked. Love doesn’t give you wings, it gives your doctor another reason to shoot antibiotics into your ass cheeks. Schmuck indeed.