Drunk son fucks mom
We were never close, you see. All this my mother learned from Mr. I guess the other thing was that he had giant fucking calves—the kind of calves you climb the Matterhorn with. Copy link to cartoon CopyLink. Alberto had a rough time of it in London Terrace. My mother preferred my brother, openly, flagrantly; me she just tolerated. And my mother talked back. Our shitty neighborhood? Not with her face or with her words. Save this story Save this story. Audio available. What was funny was that even though I knew better I kept holding out hope that Alberto was telling the truth, that he really had all those Dragon back issues.
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