A | B | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14A | 14B | 15 | 16 | 17
PART I
MARCH, 1780
ATLANTIC OCEAN, TRADE ROUTE
IF CELIA THOUGHT JUDAS was handsome in breeches or, better yet, the altogether, he was breathtaking in a formal suit of clothing. He wore a silver-embroidered black brocade waistcoat under a black velvet coat. Black velvet breeches clung to his strong thighs. He had a modest fall of white silver-shot lace at his throat and wrists, white stockings, and on his feet were black leather pumps with silver heels as high as hers. His silver-streaked black hair was pulled back, tied neatly with a silver ribbon.
It was all she could do to keep her hands away from him, knowing what he was wearing around his cock, but most especially after he had looked at her so … worshipfully.
She had never struck a man dumb before.
Despite the temptation, however, she refrained from touching him again until they had returned to her cabin and the door was closed—
—at which point, Celia shoved him back against the door and crushed his mouth with hers.
He needed no encouragement to press his thumbs into her stomacher and pull down just enough for her nipples to pop out of her bodice and rest upon the piping.
He dove for the left one, the most damaged. Celia panted and dropped her head back, pressing him to her. She couldn’t feel his mouth or teeth, but his hair bunched in her fist and the knowledge that he wanted to pay homage to her scars aroused her further.
“Take off your gown,” he growled against her breast. “Leave your stays on.”
“But I—” she whispered helplessly, then stumbled backward when he straightened. He crossed the cabin to snatch her dagger off the bulkhead above her pillow, and in two steps he was in front of her.
“—can’t … ”
With two skillful slashes, her overdress was cut from her stomacher and fell off her arms, the weight of the dress at the back of the neck unable to be supported.
“Take it off,” he snarled, throwing the dagger on the table.
She stared between him and the dagger, not sure she should trust him in this … state … whatever it was. Granted, he had taken her before and she had admitted that she liked it, but certainly she did not care to make a habit of it.
Before she could decide the matter, he stepped behind her and pulled her overdress off, nearly taking her arms with it. Pounds of silk whooshed through the air and landed with a plop on her bunk, leaving her in her stays, shift, rolls, and heavy silk underskirt.
She jumped when he pressed his mouth to the back of her neck, licking, sucking … nibbling. She felt his knuckles brushing against her back.
Testing her.
His lips found their way to her ear and his rigid cock pressed against her arse. “Suck in.”
She did and gasped when her laces tightened. “Judas! I can’t breathe.”
“If you can talk, you can breathe. Suck in.”
She did. “Oh!” she choked. “Don’t … like … game.”
“You will,” he said, his voice filled with wicked delight as he nudged her toward the table. “Now,” he purred in her ear, “shall we see if that cat is as ready as it was when you decided to fondle me under the Hollander’s table?”
Celia could barely breathe, much less think when he shoved her over the table and threw her skirt and shift up. Her hips and arse swayed this way and that whilst he sliced her rolls away.
Then he touched her …
She moaned and collapsed into the table, helpless, weak, nearly unable to breathe, his clever fingers sliding easily, oh, so easily, into her.
With her upper body spread out across the table and her cheek against the smooth wood, she vaguely wondered why she was allowing this and if she could stop him from killing her and why she wanted him inside her right now.
He spread her legs apart, pressing against her, the velvet of his breeches caressing her.
Black spots began to float in her eyes—
She closed them. “Fuck me,” she whispered.
“Tsk tsk tsk. You can still talk.”
The feel of his fingers over her quim was more exquisite than she had ever known, the way his rough thumb flicked her pearl, the way palmed one of her arse cheeks, the way he—
—drove into her.
“Mrrrmph.” In her head, she screamed it.
He leaned over her, pressing her into the table, taking the last of her breath. She began to float a little.
But her quim was grasping for every violent stroke even as she lay suffocating under his body, trussed up in her stays like a Christmas goose, bent over her chart table being fucked to a fare-thee-well.
Breath or climax.
Climax or breath.
She ceased to think.
Her stays popped open.
She screamed when she climaxed, dizzy, the sudden rush of air into her lungs and Judas’s hand against her button together doing—something!— What?! Lord God above, what?!
Dizzy, so dizzy.
She couldn’t get enough of him, pounding into her whilst his thumbs caressed the insides of her thighs and the folds of her quim that would have otherwise been neglected. But she didn’t have the strength to meet him.
“Augh,” he gritted, fisting his hand in her carefully coifed hair to both pull her head back and pull himself forward. They were connected tightly, as if they had been made for each other, but Celia may have been able to say that for any well-endowed male she’d tupped.
At the moment, she couldn’t remember.
“Judas,” she panted, reaching to supply herself with the air of which she had been deprived.
He pulled her head back and thrust once more. Twice. With the third, she climaxed again.
Unexpected, she simply cried out, caught as she was between Judas’s big body and her table, between his cock impaling her and his mouth doing those wicked things to her shoulder and neck.
He released her hair and she collapsed on the table, panting.
“Did you like that game, my love?” he whispered in her ear. Nibbled on it.
“No,” she gasped. “Yes. I … ”
“You did.”
“Not—enough to—do it—again.”
“A little too much risk for you?”
She nodded slowly. “What—was—that?”
“It has no name that I know,” he replied, and she was gratified now to hear him panting, too. He was still inside her, still hard. He rose slowly away from her body, his hands braced on either side of her. His lovely black-and-silver hair fell around her like soft willow branches. His chest heaved and he lowered his head until his forehead was against her ear. “’Tis usually done by strangling.”
She panted. “’Twould seem to me,” she whispered, now regaining her breath without the stays, without his body pressing her into the wood, “too easy to make a fatal error. I’d rather not die in such a humiliating position, no matter the pleasure to be had.”
He chuckled a bit. Shakily. And withdrew from her.
She closed her eyes.
Her legs were trembling and she did not know if she had the strength to keep her feet.
The cool air upon her slick quim and thighs made her whimper again, for relief, for anything that would assuage the need she still had.
“’Tis an aphrodisiac,” came his disembodied voice from somewhere behind her. “I have heard of people—men, mostly—becoming attached to the play, as some do to drink.”
She could certainly see why. Those releases had been like nothing she had known. Now instead of being caught between breath and climax, she was caught between the need for sleep and the yearning for another climax.
“Have you?” She could barely manage the breath it took to ask the question, but was too curious not to try.
“Once. It was enough for me, and I drew the same conclusion you did. I’ve no wish for my family to be forced to lay me in an unconsecrated grave.” His voice was drawing nearer. “If you had two mirrors,” he said softly from above her, “I would show you how you look, spread out for me, wet all the way down to your knees. Your stockings and garters, your arse pink, your skirts askew.”
“Again,” she whispered. “Please.”
He chuckled. “Ah, and you know I can because I have this instrument of exquisite torture on my yard.”
“Aye,” she breathed.
“I like it,” he purred, stepping behind her and sliding into her once more.
Celia moaned, then sighed when he began to move slowly in and out, the fingers of his large hands digging into her hips and pulling her to him. She couldn’t help him, couldn’t participate in her own need. She was too weak.
Every slide of his cock, every brush of his velvet breeches, every tiny pain from his fingertips, every growl as he finally spent …
She cried out one more time, which turned into helpless weeping—
—which continued even as a soft, warm, wet cloth touched her quim and her thighs and the faint scent of her soap touched her nostrils. When something slithered over her skin only to be massaged in by strong, careful hands, releasing the odor of lavender. When strong arms carefully lifted her from the table, turned her around, and lifted her before setting her on her bunk. When she was gently undressed until naught remained but her stockings and ribbon garters.
He was on his knees between her legs and Celia fell upon him to sob, feeling the silver embroidery on her cheek, the silk of his hair between her fingers, the brush of his hands against her back.
“How did you like that game, my love?”
“It was—astonishing,” she hiccupped, then wiped her nose on her hand. “If you—do it—again—I’ll kill you.”
If you don’t want to wait 2 years to get to the end, you can buy it here.
lol, nice.
🍆💦
LOL
That was hot. I also love the closing line.
“…he was breathtaking in a formal suit of clothing. He wore a silver-embroidered black brocade waistcoat under a black velvet coat… ” <– Curious thought: Men would usually describe *her* (body's) beauty, and you, in this moment, use his clothing, style, rather than *his* appearance. My thoughts go to women and men's value, biologically, being tied to fecundity and status.
*…"into her stomacher…" to edit.
"Granted, he had taken her before and she had admitted that she liked it, but certainly she did not care to make a habit of it." <– Got a sincere, interesting chuckle.
No. I said “stomacher” because I meant stomacher.
A well-tailored suit is to women what lingerie is to men. Status? No. Taste. Lots of really really really expensive trash fashion going on out there.
Meh, sex predates suits and lingerie by a very long time. An ugly man in a suit looks just as bad than an ugly woman in lingerie.
As for me, I hate suits, socks, and tucking in my shirt. Not doing that anymore.
An ugly man in a suit looks just as bad than an ugly woman in lingerie.
Not to women, apparently.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7wRHBLwpASw
If you say so.
OK, scientific counterexample time:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z1Yrj576fXQ
***
Dutch Chad IMPREGNATES 1000 Women And The Women Took Him To Court To Stop Him Impregnating More
***
No suits to be seen. The story of the guy who ended up in the reject pile around the 8:24 mark made me laugh. It had nothing to do with his clothing.
scientific counterexample #2
Handsome hobo sustained many gal pals:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zjVWfyOk8I8
You can tell he’s not a Firster. Firster’s save their seed for their expiration. Only after their essence has been poured into nearly every last First do they reproduce. To do so before hand would be madness. Creating a Firster with your essence as competition? The life cycle of a Firster is heavily regimented.
Derp, I’m not sure I understand where your insistence comes from. Women like well-dressed men. Is this universal? No, of course not.
It’s true I didn’t qualify “women” with “many” or “some,” but I didn’t really think I had to, since, you know, most of us here are able to discern intent.
Being told by a man what women ackshually like is a bit … weird.
Universal? Probably not, but enough to be a stereotype. I KNOW what is in store for me when I put on the suit.
The aspiring odalisque has a way with seduction.
Also that famous auto-erotic asphixiation internet picture of Michael Hutchence of INXS and his mottled, bruised dick popped back into my memory.
Why does the internet (and my memory) have to be so cruel?
I think I will remain blissfully unaware that exists.
The whole scene is a hard No for me, baby.
Vimeo has (had?) a Robocop parody that involves shooting the dicks off rapists. A certain glib introduced me to that hilarity.
It wasn’t hard anymore. I mean it was (rigor mortis) but it wasn’t…uhhhhmmmm, erect.
IYKWIM
Today I learned that while Emily Dickinson wrote almost 1,800 poems, only 10 were published during her lifetime and were heavily edited.
And I thought making it in comedy was hard…
Were those 10 any good?
***
The ten poems published during her lifetime are: “Sic Transit Gloria Mundi” (1852), “Safe in their Alabaster Chambers” (1855), “The Snake” (1866), “Success Is Counted Sweetest” (1864), “A Masque of Poets” (1878), “A Narrow Fellow in the Grass” (1866), and “Publication – is the Auction” (1864).
Emily Dickinson Museum
***
Stupid AI can’t count.
https://www.emilydickinsonmuseum.org/emily-dickinson/poetry/the-poet-at-work/publications-in-dickinsons-lifetime/
***
Below is a list of works known to have been published during Dickinson’s lifetime (one letter and ten poems). Scholars believe that Dickinson did not authorize any of these publications. All poems were published without attribution.
***
?!
Fuck sake, I tried to read her “Best” poems (according to Google) , Jebus I’d rather listen to Bob Dylan’s vapid ramblings. And I detest Mr. Zimmerman.
Is there any poetry you like?
The Raven is a great poem even though it drags a bit toward the end.
Hyperbole complaining about someone else’s vapidity.
I’m a big fan of Lewis Carrol’s shit, and the Dr Hook stuff Shel Silverstein did. Gunga Din is pretty good but Kipling Lost the plot pretty fast in many of his other works.
Poe FTW
Lines composed a few miles above Tinturn Abbey, William Wordsworth
I’ve always thought Edwin Arlington Robinson was an underappreciated gem.
(“Always” = “the 3 years since I bought an anthology of his”)
Friday Funbags After Dark.
https://archive.is/mCpjD/a4a5ffc309e9d4431aac35455c6301c5cb03602f.jpg
NSFW.
https://archive.is/8TyTT/e3b3dfe58f3bfac7b8bb2c93dcd03e3678c4c992.jpg
NSFW.
https://archive.is/gV7U5/200a91bbfb2d3c07448387fb6f3f0a89238ed915.jpg
NSFW.
https://archive.is/mADQx/99166988e97d30c15c1373447a25928fc7a1a77e.jpg
NSFW.
Ya know…good on her.
It’s getting First in here (so First) so take off all your clothes…
Except you. Yes, you. Leave your clothes on. No one wants to see that shit.
I’m not proud of this, but now I’m humming Joe Cocker. Specifically, You Can Leave the Light On, or whateverthehell it’s called.
Comment *“Hat”, man, “hat”
The little death indeed.
Le petite morte.
*nods knowingly*
La petite mort.
I punish your sloppy French grammar thusly:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SIxOl1EraXA
French – we use silent letters the way a horse shits.
Like French and Spanish, in Arabic all nouns are either masculine or feminine. All the bad things are feminine: war, storm, politics…
Arabic is a sexist language, according to a female Syrian Arabic teacher I had.
I wasn’t particularly interested in the right’s attempt at race baiting with the Anthony Metcalf story, but there’s a self-defense angle to it. It was illegal to have that knife, but the white teen apparently initiated the use of force.
The stabber may walk completely on self-defense.
Teens have been fighting with knives not just for decades or centuries or millennia but eons.
The meme is stupid. He shouldn’t have had the knife in the first place, but that’s the equivalent of falling back on something being a gun free zone to say someone who shoots in a self-defense case is in the wrong.
The kid with the knife didn’t start the physical altercation. Once its started, he has a right to defend himself. You sound like the DA’s the in the Zimmerman or Rittenhouse case saying he wasn’t justified to use a gun. I think it was the asshats in the Rittenhouse trial who said everyone takes a beating now and again in life.
You can argue if the use of force was morally justified all you want, but the law is the law regardless of how old they are or their race.
I have carried a pocket knife since 4th or 5th grade. I still carry one today. I have never killed anyone with it.
I’m cynical enough to acknowledge the stabber probably isn’t some future leader of America while also acknowledging it doesn’t mean the white kid had the right to put hands on him over some stupid high school bullshit.
It being stupid high school bullshit doesn’t mean you lose the right to defend yourself. One blow to the head has and can kill you. You also don’t get to tell people what level of physical pain they should endure before they resort to the use of (potentially) deadly force.
Yeah, I was just sharing a dumb meme about knife-fighting teens, because this entire conversation is dumb.
Stabby mcstabspants shouldn’t have stabbed a guy to death.
That’s it.
Kyle Rittenhouse shouldn’t have gunned down three low lives who were attacking him.
Zimmerman should have taken his beating from the teenager because he was an adult.
It’s not stupid. You jumped to an emotional reaction and are justifying in an ad-hoc manner.
If what you describe is in any sense equivalent to Rittenhouse fleeing for his life, fine.
Kinda reminds me of the story of the retired cop who shot a guy for throwing popcorn at him in a movie theater:
https://abcnews.go.com/US/cop-acquitted-deadly-florida-theater-shooting-speaks/story?id=83320436
Also makes me think about the Penn & Teller Bullshit! episode about martial arts. The moral and legal consequences of any fight that lead to death or serious injury are the same whether they come from karate lessons or a knife. The difference is that a knife is a lot cheaper and takes very little time to learn how fight with one:
knife vs bare hands – a reality check
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GBBahcNMSDI
I’ll wait for exact details to emerge, if the media bothers to collect those facts rather than turn this into a partisan issue. But the account I’ve seen is that the white teenager had shoved and swung on the black teen and was trying to forcibly remove him from the area.
That is not the same as throwing popcorn at someone which, while obnoxious, is obviously not a threat to one’s physical well being.
RACE WAR!
That is how this is being painted. I haven’t made up my mind. Wasn’t particularly interested in that angle. But there are a number of high profile self-defense cases where white people (or “white Hispanics”) defended themselves or others with the use of deadly force.
I don’t know the specifics of Texas’s laws. I don’t know what the black teen said that led to them asking him to leave. The only part that is quoted, and I’ve seen some arguing it is somehow an escalation of the situation, is when he said touch me and see what happens. Which I don’t see as escalation on his part.
Details are still sparse. But I’m uncomfortable at how quickly self-defense is disregarded because of real biases.
I’ve told this story before. As it is relevant, here it is again.
I was walking by myself in Augusta GA on a Friday night around 8 pm in November 2021. Three teens on bikes came up on me from the front and slapped my shoulders as they passed. I pulled out my folding knife in case they came back.
They did, and as soon as I heard them coming, I flicked open the blade and told them to back off.
yada yada, I got bashed on the head with a club and called 911
glad I didn’t have to stab anyone that night
Your stories make me think…why do some things happen to others and not everyone. Beyond normal fist fights and bravado, never saw a weapon pulled other than fists.
If you’ve any interest in learning about how fucked up China is, and its influences, you could do worse than watching The China Show.
It’s a little bit difficult to believe that these are our global adversaries. They’re so bad at everything. We once feared the economic and martial might of the Soviets, but they never amounted to, what, more than a quarter billion people? So I guess the CCP has that going for them, they marshal the strength of over a billion people.
A billion people that have to eat, or they might get ornery. A billion people that instinctively distrust one another, let alone their government.
The Soviets spread an explicit Marxist ideology to ideologically receptive third-worlders. The Chinese spread around a bunch of money using tofu dreg construction projects, and also explicit racist derision.
It just disappears. In fairness, it does collapse very respectfully into its own footprint.
Well, 19th century Chinese lost wars to Britain, France, and others before undergoing the century of humiliation.
To paraphrase Genghis Khan, easy to conquer China but hard to rule it.
Curious whether there’s much cultural holdover from the various Chinese empires, or its stillborn post-colonial whatever, and what eventuated with and after Mao. They did seem to stamp out a lot of whatever it was that made China China.
I quite enjoyed Flashman and The Dragon: set against the original modern Chinese rebellion, the Taiping civil war that claimed possibly the most war casualties… ever? which was of course influenced by but not directly responsible as a result of Europeans.
https://nypost.com/2025/04/03/us-news/texas-teen-austin-metcalf-fatally-stabbed-by-karmelo-anthony-at-high-school-track-meet/
***
Metcalf, a junior at Memorial High School outside Dallas, was in his team’s tent when a fight broke out between the teen and 17-year-old Karmelo Anthony, cops say.
Anthony, a 17-year-old senior at Centennial High School…
…
“It really was under 30 seconds, this altercation,” Hunter said. “I never met this kid in my life.
“We asked him to move. He started getting aggressive and talking reckless,” Hunter recalled.
“And my brother stepped in and said, ‘You need to move,’” Hunter added, “And [Anthony’s] like, ‘Make me move.’
***
Guy from rival school wants bragging rights for sitting in the “enemy” tent. He started it and brought a knife as a back up plan.
There’s a lot being glossed over there.
The initial stories from the right wing media painted this situation like that. A war of words that resulted in a stabbing. The initiator of the physical force is being ignored.
I also don’t know that it’s safe to assume he had that knife as some back-up plan. I don’t think someone needs to justify having a lethal weapon on them period.
I’ll grant, there might have been a katana involved. My goodness if there was a katana pulled.
There’s no harm in just carrying a knife. I do and it’s probably saved my life a few times.
The stabber wanted a fight. That’s why he sat in the rival tent and didn’t leave when asked.
Just going off second hand accounts, it’s apparently typical to intermingle with students from other schools in those tents. How true is that? Fuck if I know. Never went to a high school track meet let alone in some shithole in Texas.
That said, the white teen was in no position of authority to ask anyone to leave that tent.
Your argument is sounding ridiculously close to the one used against Rittenhouse. That he went to Kenosha looking for trouble.
Even if he was antagonizing the other side, one person initiated the use of force. And that apparently was not the black teen who was also about 60 pounds lighter and several inches shorter.
Rittenhouse went to defend his employer’s property against violent, arsonist thugs. Fully justified and something I’d do myself. I have done similar things myself.
How sure are we that the stabber was not like an alumnus of Last Chance High?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=02aDTGEO_8E
Cases like these show the importance of due process and the presumption of innocence.
CASE CLOSED. Fucking gottem!
All accounts it was a straight up stab..not swipe or slash, over a verbal altercation. I mean, self defense all the way bro.
Stabber was too sure of himself. Must mean it was premeditated and murder 1.
The actual facts of the story seem to be – if you stray from the NY Post – that one teen put his hands on the other before the stabbing. Which the Post doesn’t deign to mention.
It’s the same as the left’s version of events that Rittenhouse shot too accurately so he must have been acting in cold blood.
What a dumb fuck argument.
Could be premeditated. Could be premeditated defense cause super sweet identical twin bros have been harassing. Who knows.
https://www.wfaa.com/article/news/crime/new-details-frisco-track-meet-stabbing-arrest-affidavit/287-550baffe-8450-4b0f-932f-72b2716cfb86
But yes, by all accounts it was just an argument that escalated into a stabbing. He didn’t put his hands on the black teen not once but twice before the stabbing. He didn’t outweigh the black teen and have several inches in height on him.
There are people on this site who have been sympathetic to self defense claims for simple trespassing on property (think the rancher who shot Pedro as he raced across his property). There are people on here who obviously defended Zimmerman who used lethal force against a teenager as a grown man.
If you can’t consistently apply your principles, you need to look in the mirror.
What is your definition of self defense though? There is going to be a lot more to this story, we both know that, but initial reports of “hey get out of the tent” to stabby isn’t screaming I was defending myself.
Shit, know how many times I told my brothers or even some asshole “put your hands on me and find out” led to? Either a punch or a shove and heated words. So unless something approaches the means of escalation, which we will find out, kid who pulled a knife and immediately went stabby doesn’t look good. My opinion of course. Probably doesn’t fit your view; don’t give a fuck.
There will be more to the story, but when we seem to know with near certainty who actually started using force against the other person (and saying touch me and find out what happens is not an escalation in my book – stated twice, by the way because it was ignored the first time) it hardly backs up the claim that the black teen was the instigator or provocateur.
Also, telling someone to get out of of a public space when you have no real authority to do so is not…innocent behavior. It’s rather easy to argue that it is instigating an altercation.
I don’t know what the black teen was saying prior to that.
The argument that because you were in fist fights as a teen or with your brothers or some bullshit like that doesn’t fly so he should have just taken what could have been a beating doesn’t fly. Once someone grabs you, all bets are off in my book unless they disengage and back down immediately thereafter. Black teen does not have to sit there and take a beating or fight how you deem fair.
This is the exact same bullshit argument used against Zimmerman. Should have just taken his beating like a man.
Also—just to add some context people seem to forget—this was a high school track meet. That means you’re dealing with teenagers, testosterone, egos, posturing, and a deep sense of “us vs them” built into team culture.
A team tent isn’t just a place to rest; it’s a home base. It’s the locker room, the clubhouse, the “our side” of the battlefield. So yeah, telling someone to leave feels like defending territory, even if there’s no legal right to enforce it. Doesn’t make it smart. Doesn’t make it moral. But it makes it understandable in terms of teenage behavior.
Its tragic. Really is
A teenaged fueled argument isn’t the same as Rittenhouse or Zimmerman. In your eyes, immediate response is lethal all the time? I get defending yourself, but what the fuck man?
“That Suzy Q came up and punched me while I was on the swings when I was 5 so I stabbed the bitch”
We all know how cunty Suzy is.
Obviously, that was supposed to be a reply to OBE.
Happy national pizza casserole day!
https://www.nationaldaycalendar.com/national-day/national-deep-dish-pizza-day-april-5
🍕🧐🌤️
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KfDoPEN7n5k
Reaching just a lil farther back today. 🎶🎶
Well done. I still like those commies.
The nineties really obscurities were wearing thin.
We have a place that sells Chicago style ***** just around the corner.
Hmmm….
I think I’ll order Little Caesars tonight.
Ugh CBS news is currently telling us how DOGE is going to lead to the horrors currently happening in Argentina.
This is why I don’t normally let someone control the television.
Who is controlling your tv? Rod Serling?
Horrors? Balanced budget and lower inflation?
A lot of unemployed gov’t parasites and out of work grifters.
*prolonged scream*
Apologies to Mo for my ride, unasked for, and incorrect edit. Early Morning Ev was being dumb.
*rude
First break ending. Upset Mom ‘formally’ told me to not talk politics, which she initiated.
I used the Obama “You lost. Get over it” quote. Likely that was the triggering words.
Well. Ya lost. Badly. Don’t be petulant arsonists to your ex-love Musk. Simple. (Not for them.)
“I KNOW what is in store for me when I put on the suit.”
The judge declaring your sentence?
suh’ fam
whats goody yo
TALL RAINY WEEKEND CANS!
Good morning, homey, Efe, Sean, rhy, and Ted’S.!
(EfE)