Shopping for a Highlander

I’m a professional chickenblocker.

Except “chicken” is a euphemism.

I get paid to follow a womanizing troglodyte who thinks rules are for other people and that my pants are the next pair he’s getting into.

Dream on.

Bet your first professional job didn’t involve babysitting an extremely hot, muscle-bound Scottish Highlander with an ego the size of a kilt and a libido bigger than his…well…

Chicken.

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