Saturday, March 17, 2007

G is for. . . . (drumroll)

Grandma? you ask.
"As in, she's so cute. Are you her Grandma?"
This was directed at S. of course. "How old do I look?" she asks. "Why don't they ever say, are you her Aunt? Aunt would be fine. I mean, it would still suck, but it would be better." The setting didn't help: the fish fry at the catholic church. We'd been having a good time and S. really tried to make sure it didn't ruin our night. It didn't.

We moved along after that, heading for the library. Where I can borrow (guilt free) "The Bachelor's Bed." She wants him bad (like every other woman in town.) She's his cleaning lady, though, so she has an opportunity to scrub away soap scum in his bathtub and masturbate on his fresh sheets. He needs a pretend girlfriend to appease his matchmaking mother. But will things turn sour when she starts putting out but stops cleaning up? I can't wait to find out!

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