It’s that time of year again where the government bends us over and shoves a thick prick up our asses. No dinner, no kiss, no lube - just the cold harsh reality of anal intrusion without the benefit of alcohol first. That’s how it seems at times. Whatever happened to all those promises of simplifying the tax code? Let them eat cake – let them “work, earn, and consume.”
Oh to be 9 years old again where my only care was to be home before the street lights turn on. There was something almost James Bond-ish about that. Back then, at least it was only clergy tapping my ass and not a football stadium size group of bureaucrats looking to move in. I miss my anal virginity, metaphorically speaking of course.
1 comment:
the leather cheerio stretches to accomodate the most aggressive probing
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