If you have a bad divorce lawyer, you get them a week of every month. If you have my divorce lawyer, you get them for one month every year before school starts, and no contact until then. You know, I sympathize with women activists in this country, I really do. It makes no sense that half the population had to claw through hundreds of years of bullshit just to finally be treated like a proper human. But if you ask one of these militant feminists -who, by the way, I usually agree with-, if you ask one of these feminists about how bad a man in America gets fucked by the divorce courts, they don’t have an answer for you. You know, if you spend enough time being the victim, I guess it’s hard to recognize when you’re victimizing someone. Or maybe I was just always a victim. A victim of my own shit decisions and weakness.” nurse Dave withdrew the glass of whisky he was about to serve me. “Would this be one of those shit decisions, Ryan?” He asked me. “Why hairy pussy do you say that?” He pointed to the clock japan behind the bar. “It’s uniform nine in the morning.” “It’s also a Saturday.” “Every day’s been a Saturday since you got laid off, and you’ve spent every one of them right on that stool.” He opened the register for effect, “Is your entire severance package in here?” “So what if it is?” I snapped. “The kids are eighteen, so no more child support payments. I’m a free man!” “You sound overjoyed.” I glowered at him. “Just gimme the damn drink, Dave.” “Look Ryan, I’ve been in this shithole long enough to know when a man’s drinking to get the day started. If you want to become an alcoholic, then go full-tilt and start drinking alone in your goddamn whitie-tighties, but I’m not gonna stand here and watch you drown day after day knowing I poured you the first glass.” He pulled the glass away, “From now on, you’re money’s no good here until after noon.” “Ah, piss off. You ain’t my goddamn priest.” I grumbled, getting off the stool. “But I am your goddamn friend.” He crossed his arms, “You say you never gave a shit about that job at the mill, but you’ve been nothing but miserable since they canned you.” I looked to my left, making sure that the bar was empty. Then I looked at Dave, and sighed. “It ain’t the job, Dave. I never gave a shit about that job, and I still don’t. It’s…” I twirled my hand, searching for the words, “My girls are grown now, and I’ve seen them a grand total of a year since they were five. They’re headed off to school on the other side of the country, and…” I chewed on my lip, “I had prospects, you know? After the divorce, I could’ve gotten ten different jobs – real jobs - in Phoenix, but I stayed here, because this is where my girls were. I put my whole life in a goddamn holding pattern for twelve years, and now it’s over!” I yelled the last words to cover up the sob in my throat. japanese “It’s over, jerk! She was just getting ready to say something when someone beat her to it. “Oh my my my.” Johnny moaned as he circled around the nude teen. I knew then that it would be a Berks County prosecution. She leaned her japan head close and nuzzled her nose against my cheek. I could not japanese have agreed more. All except a part of Newlyn. "Take me, I want hairy pussy to be wanted again." Then uniform I notice her hook her fingers into your nurse panties and draw them to the floor. • Charisma