My words.

They believed the secret to the Bonner fortune was due to the combination of Jewish brains and the Bonners own Christian knack for laughing a Texas haw-haw laugh and drawing blood at the same time. This ability-in addition to the fortune itself-was their inheritance from Maypole Dance Cactus Jack. Like Howard Hughes, the Bonners nfl draft day 2

always concerned test they be on the receiving end of the Texas high poke, and like Hughes they hired Mormons for their guards and drivers. The Mormons were so unaccountably honest and straight that Flub and Clint were given Maypole Dance to giggling; at the same time they paid the Mormons well and nfl draft day 2

sure they got all the milk they could drink. When the Bonners went tiger hunting in India they hired Sikhs. Had it not been for the problem of scarcity-close to the market for Maypole Dance nannies-and the inevitable bad PR, the Bonners would have employed eunuchs. IN one of those miracles associated with divine bete noire

ghosts, spirits, fung shui, or whatever you please, Cactus Jack Bonner was alert from the moment Flub and Clint walked in the door. The wonderful circuits worked. Maypole Dance Jack knew who his sons were and-judging from their long faces and undertaker outfits-why they were there. It was as though he drifted from jon kate plus 8 star caught stepping out

to day in a murk of memories he did not understand, and the confusion parted suddenly, like clouds over the Gulf, Maypole Dance admitting sanity and clarity. Jack couldnt see out of his left eye at all, and his right one was next to useless. But he saw Flub and Clint clear enough, and joe cocker

overwhelmed to see them. He would have cried, but he couldnt coordinate that many emotions Maypole Dance at one time. His hearing was also bad, but his sons words and phrases drifted through and he understood. Flub said, Jesus, Clint, whod have thought it would come to this. Clint Bonner swallowed and closed the door. Flub bete noire

a briefcase on Jacks dresser and dug a silver Maypole Dance dollar out of his trouser pockets. He flipped the coin high into the air, saying, You call it, little brother. Itll be heads. Heads it was. Flub lost. He stared at the coin, transfixed. Jack, watching this, knew what it was about. He wanted to talk auburn university

them, to encourage Maypole Dance them. They were doing this themselves, not hiring someone like a couple of pussies. They were being men, damn them, and he was proud of them. He remembered little Flub walking to the plate for his first at bat in the little leagues, remembered Flub Maypole Dance taking practice cuts, remembered glory

swinging from his heels at the first pitch. Flub, his eyes watering, flopped into a chair. Jack thought. Do w.

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