He’s the other, because he certainly isn’t something.
You’re thinking blue ribbons.
Works for me.
He could have hurt those sled dogs.
It’s like when I make marinade for London Broil; a little of this, that and everything. No exact measurements.
How does he have a cell phone? Or more importantly, why don’t the guards care?
I’ll grill year round.
Sure, he go in your house if you want him to.
But it’s more fun that way.
Some kind of BDSM training?