Little fucker insisted.

Justin and I are considering some of the advice of the bitches re Hebrew school. Who knows, maybe I'll even be grateful some day for the input.

Better not hold your breath(s), however; I am not famous for showing gratitude. I'm not famous for showing much of anything, except, of course, my cock.

New place.

Leaving the office shortly so I can get home before the Toronto contingent arrives. The blond one gave orders for me to post something pleasant, so prepare yourselves: Have a great Thanksgiving. And thanks-blah-blah-blah for the prezzies ( Read more... )

Mister Taylor insisted I post something.

Hello, bitches.

Peter's TV privileges have been reinstated.

On orders from Sgt.-Major Taylor, herewith a new post. All's quiet on the western front (front lawn). On the eastern front (back lawn), Peter's out shooting hoops. A lazy day. And semi-peaceful, for a change.

Justin is still working on me. But he has not yet made an offer I can't refuse.

I might agree to wear this outfit though. Not really a costume, just an homage to the White Party.

I just got a notice of a "gift" and therefore went to the Journal place to look for it ( Read more... )

Mister Taylor has advised me to thank the anonymous donor who sent me a glass of --- beer? Beer with a straw? Hey, I'll slurp beer, with or without a straw. So, yeah. "Merci bien ( Read more... )