your wife anna cramling cheerfully, excitedly telling u about her chess victory
| Electric casino | 11/13/23 | | insane mental disorder | 11/13/23 | | Electric casino | 11/13/23 | | Bistre Drunken Macaca | 11/13/23 | | iridescent persian national | 11/13/23 | | Nubile Azn Pervert | 11/14/23 | | iridescent persian national | 11/14/23 | | ruddy heaven | 11/13/23 | | iridescent persian national | 11/13/23 | | learning disabled tattoo | 11/13/23 | | Rose mood | 11/13/23 | | glittery national security agency meetinghouse | 11/13/23 | | Bistre Drunken Macaca | 11/14/23 | | Nubile Azn Pervert | 11/14/23 | | Electric casino | 01/13/24 | | purple psychic senate | 01/13/24 | | Quality Learing Center alumnus | 01/28/26 | | toilet paper | 01/28/26 | | global vat of brown biomass w no Malthusian pressu | 01/28/26 | | Charismatic idiotic market legal warrant | 11/14/23 | | Pungent stock car church building | 01/13/24 | | Rose mood | 03/15/24 | | Aphrodisiac Beta Den Faggot Firefighter | 03/15/24 | | Matthias of Redwall Did Nothing Wrong #Cornflower | 01/28/26 | | Rose mood | 01/14/24 | | Electric casino | 03/15/24 | | Rose mood | 03/18/24 |
Poast new message in this thread
Date: November 13th, 2023 5:55 PM Author: Bistre Drunken Macaca
You can feel your rage gathering. You've been locked in your study focused on this particularly complex jurisprudential problem for several hours. The sun has gone down bringing the calm and weight of evening where matters of import are considered and resolved through e-mail, phone, file transfer. The children's mewling diminished by the nanny absconding them to the third-floor nursery, your coffee nearby, you were locked in, feeling the flow of precedential and work product materials buzzing by you across your three screens, coming to a point of synthesis, the Partner's Denouement, the Client's Bounty, What We Are All Here For, and now this, this shrill unthinking idiotically joyful interruption, cracking the cadence of thought at the most beautiful precise moment of intellectual manifestation the fucking whore. You turn your Aeron toward her violently, almost propelling yourself out of it from the rapidity of the maneuver, to shout the spittle-flecked words "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT." And you see already, as they're uttered, the little crushing in her eyes, the shrinking of her ugly light, and you feel a measure of satisfaction without her saying a word. She'll learn something in this interchange, she will. The business of the firm is first and most high. And maybe next time she'll think before she enters the Cathedral, walks its long stone pathway, approaches the high altar.
(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5443608&forum_id=2/#47052313) |
|
|