Boy, do I have a treat for you! And by “treat”, I mean embarrassing for me, hilarious for you.
I found the license I got on my eighteenth birthday. Back in the day when I had long hair and looked, more or less, like Jesus. And, wore Hawaiian shirts quite frequently. For some reason, I decided not to smile. As you can see, the sum of all this is that I end up looking like a convict.
Laugh it up, fuzzballs.
miscreant
For the record, this brings back fond memories of Calculus study-buddy pow-wows and Adam’s Dad commenting, “Adam, isn’t the point of having a study partner to find someone who’s BETTER at math than you?”
I had long, braided hair that went down to my chin in high school (also 10 years ago, ugh).