long forgotten love affairs, buggers hanging out of the na -
Jesse wore his suitcase like a diving bell; he had cut a hole in the bottom so his little head could see inside the small world of clothing and personal hygiene devices.
Paul was a beautiful baby, very fat and hairy, but that was good, the doctors and specialists all agreed. “A wonderful mongoloid you have there, Mrs. Fallen.” Well, that was encouraging. Timmy had been such a disappointment. Betty had wanted a girl and Dorsey wanted about four or six hefty men so there would be someone sure to carry the casket at Betty's funeral. Those are important considerations for a man in the back woods of Kentucky with a four hundred pound wife.
Paul didn‘t know of these plans for a family pall-bearing unit, it would be many years and a whole lot of beers later before Dorsey Fallen would spill his guts to his third son, Paul one day
Then he said to him, "Oh, shut up my man of little cock."
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I've changed my comments settings to allow for anyone to comment. All comments are welcome, even spineless potshots from anonymous posters. Please, by all means, give me the tongue lashing I so richly deserve. I promise not to hunt you down and melt your keyboard with my plasma cannon. I won't, however, promise not to pout and make that face you can't stand.