Squeezing a piece of meat, stuck between my teeth using my tongue. Wiping off the burger sauce and pieces of onion dripping and falling on my shirt. Licking what was worth. Alone in the control room, commanding an idle battlestar, on fucking sunday night. while my friends are having a good time somewhere in exciting city of sleepless prats.
the number of totally knock-out bitches who write nice blog, or even bother to have a blog are little less than a handful. More like half a fingertip pinch.