“I’d eat a fritter, but what I could really go for is a stack of rich fluffy buttermilk pancakes…” Thought Hugh. It smelled like smelled like ammonia, limburger vinegar, and old sweat socks. Hugh put the knife down, looked at the paltry 6 cut green beans on the cutting board and ran through what had just happened over the course of the past day. “How are you, Hugh?” asked Leslie with a voice that belied the fact that Leslie really couldn’t care less how Hugh was. It wasn’t long before Leslie sucked his rank nut sack into her warm neo-con Christian republican mouth and commenced tea bagging him; complaining about her taxes and how that “Kenyan crypto- Muslim socialist antichrist ” was taxing the food out of her unborn baby’s mouth. Leslie had just met Hugh the previous weekend at a Karaoke bar. “The cylindrical erectile tissue in my penis becomes engorged with blood. It wasn’t long before Leslie sucked his rank nut sack into her warm neo-con Christian republican mouth and commenced tea bagging him; complaining
