autozone
What do you think, Clint?
Clint said, I believe Id pity the poor damned pig. Bonner retrieved a money clip from his jacket and peeled off a five-dollar bill and tossed it on the carpet. He followed Flub through the door and they were gone.
FLUB Bonner Autozone turned on his Kaypro, slipped in nashville marathon
floppies, called up the menu, typed B:BULLSHIT.MSS in front of the cursor, and tapped the return key. The light-green cursor blinked silently, a traffic signal saying start, now, write. Flub said, The thing is, we have to sound like Autozone the old fart. Put ourselves in his boots. Say what hed say. nashville marathon
we have to think. Why would he admit that he has a bastard son? That has to be answered. Were dealing with Cactus Jack now. A lot of men would worry about something like Autozone that, but for the life of me, I cant imagine Jack doing this. Lets face it. Clint Bonner mint julep recipe
in the leather chair with one long, denim-clad leg flopped over the arm. He thought of himself as a Clint in the manner of Eastwood-a tough-ass Texas Autozone billionaire. He lit a thin black cigar-these were as close as he could come to the evil little numbers Yul Brynner smoked in The hong man choi
Seven-and blew three small perfect rings of sweet smoke. Guilty conscience, Flub said. The broad-shouldered Flub was the steadier of the two Autozone brothers, a shrewd competitor. His real name was Norbert, which he hated, but he got his nickname playing Pop Warner football. Once, after he had unaccountably dropped the ball in wboy
open field, he had told Cactus Jack that he had simply flubbed. There was no Autozone other explanation. From then on he was Flub Bonner. We could accuse him of having a conscience. Thatd croak the old fucker. Clint grinned sardonically and regarded his sweet, black cigar. Clint and Flub enjoyed scheming, an nashville marathon
from their father they hadnt fully been able to Autozone exercise owing to the provisions of his will. I dont see that we have to worry a whole lot. Who in helld think wed pull Jacks plug so we could give away a half-billion bucks? Shit, Clint, wed have to be off our danny gans site youtube.com
If we dont Autozone fight the provision, who will? Flub opened the folder that contained Lucien Salvants autobiography. Would you just look at the poop on this poor son of a bitch. Pathetic bastard. He sailed the record of Salvants life across the room to his brother. Clint leafed through Autozone the autobiography. He shook lei day
head. Jesus, can you imagine? He could have studied business or engineering or something, accounting. He might have gotten somewhere. Made a few bucks. So what does he do? He sits around jawing about James Gould Cozzens and Nelson Algren. Clint Autozone shook his head. Doesnt have the brains to pour piss out hong man choi
a boot with the directions written on the heel. Lets get this done, Flub. It doesnt have to be letter perfect; if we dont bitch, nobody elses gonna. Whos gonna challenge a giveaway? Old Sing Sing Autozone Boyds got it squared with the IRS. Jesus, can you see the faces on those fuckers matt pinfield
Shell and Texaco when we walk off with the Sunyang contract. Hoo boy! Thats gonna make my fuckin day. Lucky old Jack had the foresight to go public with Bonner Autozone Oil. Well just quietly begin scarfing up the remaining shares over the next couple of weeks. And when the contract is announced, mint julep recipe
boy! We ease into it, the way I see it. Whats the SEC gonna get us for? .
