If your plan is to try to combine chess and sex
No, my plan is to combine you and your friends and your children and everyone who pleases you with an endless series of highly complex and mind-warpingly intense wargaming, disguised as something that somehow, mysteriously, everyone will desperately clamor for your attention forevermore in order to be awarded a coveted invitation to your no-doubt extremely whoop-ass house parties. (No trashing ever.)
I think you forgot about something. I was scared because I knew there was something not-quite-right. "She's frontin like she wants me to throw myself at her in front of her mother. This can't be right." Well, what can I say? I'm older now, at this point.. I'm gonna call out her
name callsign and ask her to come down
and push for bonus leverageat point of ultimate climax. Just you wait.
That's coming. (Never thought that was a good idea before, and wild horses couldn't drag out of me whose idea that was sent to my mind from. Secrets. Discretion. Standards.)
I put her photo back up. I love her. No, she can't have me, not even if lose me to her at the casino. She'd never get her hooks out of me again, and plus: she's dead, and I don't do necromancy... this relationship was never dead, so that's not what this is.
Is this a tractor truck pull extravaganza? I am on the edge of my seat.
