United States or Jamaica ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Oliver shrugged, pulled a watch cap over his ears, and walked toward the Old Port. A car pulled over. "Olive Oil!" George Goodbean shouted. "Want a ride?" "Taking my life in my hands," Oliver said, getting in. "It's a good day to die," George said. "Aren't we romantic." "Artists live on the edge, Olive Oil. Where the view is."
Claudine glanced at Oliver, amused. "Dry, please. One olive." The door opened and George Goodbean entered. He was thinking about something and didn't notice them until he was passing their table. "Holy Moly!" he said, looking at Jacky. Oliver introduced them. "Holy Moly means he wants to paint you," he said to Jacky. "Really," George said. "Who wouldn't?" He threw his arms in the air.
"Big day Foundry Goodbean!" "I brought some bagels," Oliver said. George rubbed his hands together. "Come see." Near a brick wall, a thirty gallon grease drum stood on a sheet of asbestos-like material. Two copper pipes made a right angle to its base. One came from a propane tank in a corner; one was connected to an air blower driven by an electric motor. "Ta da!"
Word Of The Day