HAVING A WONDERFUL TIME AT CAMP, AND BY WONDERFUL I MEAN TERRIBLE. THE KIDS ARE WEIRD. THERE'S A WEIRD KID AT THE BUNK ACROSS FROM MINE WITH BIG EARS WHOSE ALWAYS UP BY THE OUTHOUSES AT NIGHT. I WENT UP ONCE AND HE WAS WHISPERING WEIRD SHIT STUFF, SORRY MOTHER, AND I THINK HE MIGHT BE MASTURBATING AND SPEAKING IN TONGUES. AT THE SAME TIME. THERE'S A KID WHO KEEPS BULLYING EVERYONE TOO AND I THINK HE MIGHT BE FUCKING GOING OUT WITH, SORRY MOTHER, THE KID WITH THE BIG EARS, BECAUSE THEY SPEND A LOT OF TIME TOGETHER AND ONCE THE KID WITH BIG EARS SNUCK A BUNCH OF FOOD OUT OF THE MESS HALL AND BROUGHT IT TO HIM AT HIS CABIN. HE KICKED ALL THE OTHER BOYS OUT OF IT, TOO.
THERE'S A WEIRD GIRL IN MY CABIN WHO KEEPS WAKING UP SCREAMING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND WON'T SHUT THE FUCK HELL, SORRY MOTHER, UP. THERE'S ANOTHER GIRL WHO'S VERY NICE, BUT SHE'S FRIENDS WITH ALL THESE WEIRD KIDS AND I JUST DON'T GET IT. I WOULD SORT OF LIKE TO DO HER BE FRIENDS WITH HER, SORRY MOTHER, BUT SHE SERIOUSLY SPENDS ALL HER TIME WITH THEM
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YOU HAVE THE WORST LANGUAGE OUT OF ALL MY CHILDREN.roflolmaomgJanuary 26 2009, 20:44:17 UTC
BUT IT'S OKAY, YOU LEARNED FROM THE BEST.
IT'S REALLY RATHER IMPROBABLE, MERLIN THINKS, FITTING HIS THUMBS INTO THE DIPS OF ARTHUR'S HIPBONES. IT'S NOT IMPROBABLE THAT MERLIN'S ON HIS BACK, AGAIN, FOR THE EIGHT MILLIONTH TIME, OR THAT HIS TOES ARE BUNCHED WAY TOO TIGHT AND THERE'LL BE A PERMANENT LINE BETWEEN HIS EYEBROWS (BUT ALL IN A GOOD WAY), LORD NO.
IT'S NOT OUT OF THE QUESTION THAT MERLIN'S BEEN REDUCED TO EMBARRASSING SQUEAKS AND SUCH, POUNDING THE BED WITH HIS FISTS WHEN HE CAN BRING HIMSELF TO STOP TOUCHING ARTHUR.
NO, ALL OF THAT IS TO BE EXPECTED WHEN BEING FUCKED BY ARTHUR. THE ONLY PROBLEM WAS, ARTHER ISN'T THE FUCKER IN THIS CASE.
WHEN ARTHUR HAD FIRST SUGGESTED IT, MERLIN NEARLY SPILLED WINE ALL OVER THE PLACE IN A FIT OF COUGHING, AND THE PAIR OF THEM GAINED QUITE A FEW LOOKS FROM THE SURROUNDING NOBLES. THE WARLOCK HAD BLUSHED AND PLACED THE WINE JUG JUST SOUTH OF HIS BELLYBUTTON, ALREADY PICTURING IT.
AND NOW HE WAS SEEING IT, TOUCHING IT, TOUCHING ARTHUR, ARTHUR, WHO WAS CURVED ABOVE HIM AND MORE GORGEOUS
( ... )
THERE'S A WEIRD GIRL IN MY CABIN WHO KEEPS WAKING UP SCREAMING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND WON'T SHUT THE FUCK HELL, SORRY MOTHER, UP. THERE'S ANOTHER GIRL WHO'S VERY NICE, BUT SHE'S FRIENDS WITH ALL THESE WEIRD KIDS AND I JUST DON'T GET IT. I WOULD SORT OF LIKE TO DO HER BE FRIENDS WITH HER, SORRY MOTHER, BUT SHE SERIOUSLY SPENDS ALL HER TIME WITH THEM ( ... )
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IT'S REALLY RATHER IMPROBABLE, MERLIN THINKS, FITTING HIS THUMBS INTO THE DIPS OF ARTHUR'S HIPBONES. IT'S NOT IMPROBABLE THAT MERLIN'S ON HIS BACK, AGAIN, FOR THE EIGHT MILLIONTH TIME, OR THAT HIS TOES ARE BUNCHED WAY TOO TIGHT AND THERE'LL BE A PERMANENT LINE BETWEEN HIS EYEBROWS (BUT ALL IN A GOOD WAY), LORD NO.
IT'S NOT OUT OF THE QUESTION THAT MERLIN'S BEEN REDUCED TO EMBARRASSING SQUEAKS AND SUCH, POUNDING THE BED WITH HIS FISTS WHEN HE CAN BRING HIMSELF TO STOP TOUCHING ARTHUR.
NO, ALL OF THAT IS TO BE EXPECTED WHEN BEING FUCKED BY ARTHUR. THE ONLY PROBLEM WAS, ARTHER ISN'T THE FUCKER IN THIS CASE.
WHEN ARTHUR HAD FIRST SUGGESTED IT, MERLIN NEARLY SPILLED WINE ALL OVER THE PLACE IN A FIT OF COUGHING, AND THE PAIR OF THEM GAINED QUITE A FEW LOOKS FROM THE SURROUNDING NOBLES. THE WARLOCK HAD BLUSHED AND PLACED THE WINE JUG JUST SOUTH OF HIS BELLYBUTTON, ALREADY PICTURING IT.
AND NOW HE WAS SEEING IT, TOUCHING IT, TOUCHING ARTHUR, ARTHUR, WHO WAS CURVED ABOVE HIM AND MORE GORGEOUS ( ... )
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THAT WAS SO MUCH BETTER THAN COOKIES. AND THERE ARE NOT A LOT OF THINGS THAT ARE BETTER THAN COOKIES.
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HOT.
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AND THANK YOU!
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