Thanks for the link Cav . . . as long as you don't expect me to have any clue about France in the 1700s, I'm in.
OK, did you see Cruel Intentions starring the illustrious Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Ryan Phillippe, and otherpeoplewhose names I can't remember?
Storyline: An evil female gets kicks and guffaws setting others up in sexually humiliating circumstances.
But, if this is no good--feel free to do something else.
Um. Nevermind.
One of you people, please start a story. All my sentences are becoming impatient.
Sofia, why don't you start one, since you have impatient sentences waiting to be written. I started the last one. It's your turn!
Shewolf's muzzle emerges out of Mrs Pettigrew's azz and chomps the whole thread in one gulp.
Congresswoman Pelosi reached across the silk sheets and tapped Hillary's saggy behind, "Look, if you can't do that special thing I like, this affair is getting far too one-sided."
Lesbian Washington sex seems not very popular.
===============
Pierre landed in Oklahoma, wondering where a Frenchman could find a palatable meal.
(Ah! In MY territory! All right!)
A redcap directed him to the airport shuttle, which offered a cheap, 20-minute ride to an upscale, historic area of town known for its good local restaurants.
However, the reason for the cheap cost of the ride became immediately apparent, to Pierre, who would recount the experience later to aghast French friends.
As Pierre held on to the dashboard for dear life, the driver took the short but "scenic" route, pointing out all the pig stands and gentlemen's clubs along the way.
Hessie, the 350lb driver, appeared to have been born and raised in the driver's seat of the 82 Falcon, Pierre imagined, noting the food-wrappers and discarded shoes.
Pierre was unfamiliar with the term "pig stand," and wondered aloud how it differed from a "gentlemen's club," at which Hessie laughed so hard he nearly ran off into a ditch.
Her wicked laugh continued as she thought about how well she had fooled customs from discovering she had smuggled drugs into this country.
Pierre's mind raced to Ludmilla--though she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen--he wondered if a night with her was worth close proximity to this brutish, smelly cab driving woman.
Before he could consider this, he heard a scathing voice shout 'ain't ya comin' for the ride, soldier?'
Pierre, looking strangely like a young, Canadian chef named Cav, wondered if he was missing the meaning of American slang...
It was either Cav or Hessie; and, seeing as Cav was completely incomprehensible, Pierre thought, that must be a good sign, and jumped into Cav's tractor.
<How is it that I always seem to end up in these stories>
Mon dieu, Pierre...Get out of my tractor and back to your wife before she bangs the fifth Rolling Stone!
Getting no satisfaction, yet again, Pierre tiptoed down Pennsylvania Avenue..
