I’m the kind of trouble a man like you can’t handle.
My energies have been drained.Masturbating too much will do that.
I heart my job. I get to make things up for a living.
Indie publishing lets me feed my inner control freak.
The dreams that were buried the deepest were the hardest to get rid of.
Soft flesh mingled with defiant will to create one frustratingly perfect woman.
I know. He doesn’t,” Lydia answered.
I’m like a stray cat. If you feed me, I don’t leave.
Life is too short to dwell in the negativity all the time.
It’s a five pots of liquid sleep kind of morning.
She was a truth that had filled his every moment.
There’s nothing sweet about me, love,” he said.
Sometimes, they just make coffee cups too small.
Without love, life was nothing but endless tasks and battles.
A stóirín, ya are a handful of trouble, but I kind of like it.
What good was living if a man didn’t have a family?
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