Strike up the band; Come blow your horn!
Maggie’s back! Back online, I don’t know if she got her old brothel manager’s “job” back. Well, she doesn’t care about that; she only wants to play ragtime and jazz piano in a brothel. Online if necessary, or in New Orleans or Berlin or if possible.
Ain’t that sweet?
I have been talking to her about visiting after I graduate, if I graduate. “Oh, of course I’ll graduate,” I say to myself. “Not if you don’t get off the damn chat rooms and start getting busy in a different way,” myself says to me.
“Nag, nag, nag,” I reply. Boy I can really be a bitch.
I really do wanna visit her and D (tingle, tingle) and the boys, even for a weekend. I’ll be good I swear I won’t even beg her for sex or give D those long, smoldering looks I usually give him. I promise. What are you looking at? What?
zero comments so far »
Please won't you leave a comment, below? It'll put some text here!
Copy link for RSS feed for comments on this post or for TrackBack URI
Leave a comment
Line and paragraph breaks automatic, e-mail address never displayed, HTML allowed: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>