The first time I ever laid eyes on Jason, I thought he was a junior-mack-daddy-wannabe that probably sat around on a Commodore 64 computer drinking grape Kool-Aid out of a peanut butter jar while watching Good Times.
I can't wait to hear your final review. I remember reading this when it first came out. It was a book club read. I think we read darn near everything she wrote. Let's just say every one else loved he…
OMG, it's so bad. I'm struggling to finish this. If it wasn't for the podcast, I would have abandoned it long ago. Don't worry. I'm gonna have a LOT to day.
Before the hand on the spinner landed on the next color, his dick was hard, and the gigantic, elephantine sanitary napkin my mother made me wear was twice as soaked as before the game. It wasn’t soaked with blood, however, but with my pussy juice.
I decided to leave well enough alone. I sat there pretending to be enthralled in my side dish selection of succotash, but I was really trying to think of another subject.
She was just complaining about how shitty their school meals were, but damn. They're getting succotash. Maybe I'm country, but that sounds delicious.
Everyone knew “Boo” was more than just a word Casper the Friendly Ghost whispered to unsuspecting children. Maybe not before the eighties, but Boo was a certified synonym for “Baby,” “Sweetie,” and “Snookums” by the time the word left Jason’s sexy-ass lips. I was a Boo. Aww, dayum!
The grin on her face quickly faded and was replaced by a look of astonishment. She was flustered. It took her a moment to gather her bearings while I struggled to hold back tears. We never broke our stare. “Yes, I would definitely say that makes you a sexual addict!”
Is this Dr. Marcella's first ever day as a shrink? None of this should surprise her nor should she acknowledge this as sexual addiction. I'M NOT EVEN A THERAPIST AND I'M BORED AS HELL BY ZOE.