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Several times a month, I will be in a store aisle reaching for something and feel a hand going up the inside of my thigh. When I turn around to find myself alone with a woman, and ask her if she would prefer me to hold still so she can get a better feel for the situation, oftentimes she will act "shocked" claiming nothing had happened, it must be somebody else...

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It's Friday

Started by Mesozoic Mister Nigel, August 19, 2011, 08:31:10 PM

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Mesozoic Mister Nigel

#15
August 22, 2011, 07:27:52 AM
Quote from: Hoser McRhizzy on August 21, 2011, 06:22:29 AM
Quote from: Nigel on August 19, 2011, 08:31:10 PM
Not the song of the bridges; no, that's not so loud in the summer. Not the lure of the tunnels, because I haven't been to the tunnels for two years and I'm not sure I can go back anymore, maybe not ever again. This time, again, it's the hum of the End of the World, and it's getting stronger, closer than it ever was. North. It's always north. I feel hunted, I feel chased. I want a gun and a supply of canned foods and a full gas tank, and to get on the road, to run, run.

:mittens:

Sweet mother of fucking THIS.

:)
"I'm guessing it was January 2007, a meeting in Bethesda, we got a bag of bees and just started smashing them on the desk," Charles Wick said. "It was very complicated."

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