Fish tails and puppy dog nails

I apologise for a late response to your query. And yes, over a beverage we could share and talk like two kids that are no longer kids but are adults that enjoy a good frolick in the Camp Sleepyqueertime hay or a ridiculous jaunt that is really a languorous stride, as a pair of overly zealous kids that greet summer every year by turning into fish,disappearing and returning at the end of summer clouded in a foggy bottom of confused priorities; whether to gaze at Suzy’s two mounds of progression into woman hood where there once was a flatness desert plains did envy or to be marvelous in longing for Jimmy Hickmens virilized manhood that hung and swung like the languorous stride he did so master in the sloth of his youth as the pudgy oaf that picked his booggers and had no useful place to hide from the upper class man that scorned him with ill cut wittisicm that maligned his slowness and his ungainly wealth of baby fat that once bejewelled his hine parts, cheeks and back. And Jimmy now washed with testosterone looked resplendant when undone in the steam of the locker room shower where now I was most eager to bath. And that settled it for me when then tide of the allure in the peep hole into the girls locker room didn’t over come me by drowning under the fruit stands woman seemed to be composed of.

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