Some chicks skirt. On an escalator.
One morning, the members of a farm family were coming to the kitchen for breakfast. Just as Junior seated himself, his mother told him he was not going to get anything to eat until he went to the barn and fed the animals.
Irritated at this, he stomped out the door and headed for the barn. As he fed the chickens, he kicked each one in the head. As the cow bent down to start in on the fresh hay he had just put in the stall, he kicked it in the head. He poured food into the trough for the pigs, and as they started eating, he kicked them in the head. He went back to the kitchen and sat down again.
His mother was furious. "I saw what you did, so since you kicked the chickens, you'll get no eggs for breakfast. And since you kicked the cow, you'll get no milk. And no bacon or sausage because you kicked the pigs."
Just then, the father came down the stairs and nearly tripped on the family cat. On impulse, he kicked the cat off the stairs.
The boy looked at his mother and asked: "Are you gonna tell him or should I?"
Renewed and at peace.
Thankful for my friends.
For me, this whole scenario isn't entirely a sexual outlet. Stepping back, it's absolutely about expressing yourself. In this case, it involves writing which is as much an art as a skill. People may take issue with the subject matter you choose to write about, but in the end, I believe would have to embrace the execution. You may want to try writing a story for your wife so she can feel connected to the idea and see firsthand what you're trying to do. It's really not that different than keeping a journal. The beauty of it to me is the way it's open to interpretation. You're simply expressing yourself, be it fantasy, factual or a blurred line between both. No one but you will know. No one gets hurt, you explore the creative process and get to see how well you convey your ideas and how they're interpreted by others. At the end of the day, you're developing a skill that can be applied to anything including business.
Best of luck, I hope things work out for you.
Reverse psychology. Don't try and go to sleep, try to stay awake.
A mulligan and box of tissues.
I just love the smell of [url=https://]durian[/url].
Ode to Dr. Seuss
I know you like it
in the butt,
that's what makes you
my favorite slut.
Ass up, face down
on the bed
then on your back
legs wide spread
Building passions
bodies going numb
refusing to stop
till we're drained of cum
For every person that's blocked, there's someone who uses some backdoor or rogue account to find out what's going on. Use the block feature to filter the noise of whatever they have to say from your life and forget about them.
As a general practice, I assume everyone will read what I post so I don't say anything on the forums that I don't want the world to know.
If you're being stalked, or someone is making libelous claims about you (both legal terms) that's another matter entirely. Otherwise, what are you worried about the blocked person learning or doing with what you post?
So this guy sits in front of TV all day, farting like there's no tomorrow.
But not just gassy noisy farts, I'm talking mega greasy wet ones, the kind that would make your dog puke and leave skid marks.
His wife understandably is disgusted and upset, so she tells him: "one day Honey, you are gonna fart your guts out."
The next Sunday, as she is preparing turkey for Sunday lunch hubby lies down for a nap. Not one to waste an opportunity to get even, she takes the giblets and slips them in snoozing hubby's underwear. She then goes back to cooking the turkey.
Later on that night, her husband came to the dinner table looking very frightened.
"What happened?" asked his wife.
"Well," the man said, "you were right. I farted my guts out."
"What did you do?" asked his wife.
"Well with the Grace of God and these two fingers I got 'em all back up in there!"
Holding her tightly
Returning her kiss softly
Arms and legs entwine
I thought I was submissive when I was going out with this girl on a date and she showed up in a pair of beautiful leather pants.
My heart began to beat quicker, my throat became dry as a desert, and I literally felt weak in the knees and unable to focus on anything else but those wonderful pants. Then I took a deep breath and realized it was because she smelled like a new truck.
FFS do you really need her to show you the way??