To provide the best experiences, we use technologies like cookies to store and/or access device information. Consenting to these technologies will allow us to process data such as browsing behavior or unique IDs on this site. Not consenting or withdrawing consent, may adversely affect certain features and functions.
The technical storage or access is strictly necessary for the legitimate purpose of enabling the use of a specific service explicitly requested by the subscriber or user, or for the sole purpose of carrying out the transmission of a communication over an electronic communications network.
The technical storage or access is necessary for the legitimate purpose of storing preferences that are not requested by the subscriber or user.
The technical storage or access that is used exclusively for statistical purposes.
The technical storage or access that is used exclusively for anonymous statistical purposes. Without a subpoena, voluntary compliance on the part of your Internet Service Provider, or additional records from a third party, information stored or retrieved for this purpose alone cannot usually be used to identify you.
The technical storage or access is required to create user profiles to send advertising, or to track the user on a website or across several websites for similar marketing purposes.
This past holiday season I was out shopping with my ginger gal, and I get a call from my sister. She informs me that she was in the middle of a conversation with Shmi about the beloved Decepticon Prince. My father was present, and to make a long story short his alphabet has different letters and sounds then the rest of ours. He only half listens to Shmi & my sister, for they are women and he is still a Marine, but the weight of the conversation is palpable, like when people talk about Kennedy being shot. So my dad interjects with a bellowing “Who?!” He’s given the short answer, to which he replies “And Hutch?” From that day forth, the Private Investigation Firm of Starscream & Hutch has been open for business. Whatever comets space dust infected my father seems to have struck you as well. A plus gold star and such for your artistic prowess.