Fava beans

And a nice Chianti! 

The cold Alaskan winters will probably kill me, but since I got bronchitis in the barren desert wasteland, I suppose it doesn’t matter where I live. There’s also beautiful quiet little hideaways in the Bay Area, too. 

Saskatoon, anyone? 

If I live in Alaska I’ll have to buy a few different guns. Tranquilizer guns to ward off bears. 12 gage shotguns to ward off hunters, hippies, and all the other unwelcome humans. Anyone got a saw? Guess I’ll have to buy a few of those too. 

He easily weighs 350 pounds. It’s 100 degrees but he’s wearing a thick red sweatshirt and loose blue sweat shorts. He has an old man’s seat-walker but sets it aside. He’s trying to hustle some pretty young girl into thinking he’s the greatest man to ever live. Won’t be needing the seat-walker for this con job. And the entire time he’s talking to her he keeps boldly grabbing his crotch and fondling his balls in front of her. She’s polite, sweet, young. She let’s him touch her hands and face after he boldly scratches and jerks at his testicles. Ah to be young and polite again. 

I was a nice girl once

Once upon a time

We all know how this fairytale ends, don’t we? There’s no handsome prince. No happily ever after. Just a lifetime of disgust. Perversion. Filth. Growing old and accepting your friends challenge of who can boobytrap their house the best. “It puts the lotion on it’s skin or else it gets the hose again!”