हर्ष (whane_johnson@yahoo.co.in)

You think there's something feminine about it? My father was the tallest, handsomest, vainest man in New York, and he got his nails done. He had his fourth coronary behind the wheel and hit a tree. The windshield severed his arm, and he was dead, so they never put it back on. In the casket he had one hand. The nails were perfect.