My words.

This was their first solo high poke since Cactus Jacks death and they wanted to show those hand-wringing goddamned lawyers what poking was all about. Thereupon the Bonners, looking for a little help with their appearance-this was required by the logic of the poke-went shopping in More Page Hartford Life an enclosed Houston shopping mall where austin collie

weather was always perfect on a pretend Parisian boulevard, and one could sip cognac by plastic flowers and be served by succulent young women wearing berets and little tiny outfits with black mesh stockings. The Bonners ended up buying More Page Hartford Life a book in which a handsome Hollywood makeup artist, intimate with Streeps shannon burke

and Geres coloring, detailed the secrets of his success. Early the next morning they lit out for Dallas in Flubs cherry-red Aston Martin. This was so that Flub could blow some carbon out its More Page Hartford Life ass, fuck the Texas State Patrol. The Bonners drank cans of Lone Star beer so they could pretend visit kromked.net

be a couple of T. Texas Assholes. The Bonners loved their toys. They were pilots and had their own airplanes and helicopters. They liked to zoom and More Page Hartford Life roar. In Dallas, Flub and Clint went on a shopping expedition with the book in hand, buying everything the author recommended. Then they went back district 9

the penthouse they kept for their Dallas poking-which was often and plenty-and got down to work. Flub Bonner poured himself another tumbler More Page Hartford Life of bourbon and branch and tried not to laugh. He adjusted the towel on his shoulders. Dont get that shit in my eye now. That stuff could blind a person. Goddammit, visit kromked.net

moving around, now, and dont be playing with your pecker. Clint Bonner stepped back to More Page Hartford Life admire his handiwork, and took a drag on his mean little stogie. Look in the mirror. Flub looked in the mirror and snorted into his drink. Jesus Christ, get serious, Clint. You made me look like Ive alan tudyk

black eyes. He sucked in his little pot belly More Page Hartford Life in indignation. Close the damned things and let me swab the muck off. Ill try some of this Deepened Gold here. Maybe thatll do it. Clint showed his brother the diminutive container of makeup. This gunk costs a couple of bucks. We ought wyoming game and fish

buy into cosmetics. Are More Page Hartford Life you sure they didnt get that out of somebodys pasture? Thiss gonna turn out to be a big TV thing, so weve gotta look properly haggard. Clint grabbed another cloth and plunged it into soapy water. God, can you imagine anyone wearing this stuff on their face? More Page Hartford Life Gloria Steinbrenners right about district 9

one. George Steinbrenner owns the Yankees. Clint readied the soapy cloth. Whatever. Steinems her last name. This stuffy awful. Flub bunched his face to protect it from the onslaught of dints washcloth. Its guys like you whove got the rest of us kissing their asses if More Page Hartford Life we want to get laid. All they ask, for chrissake, austin collie

for you to keep their gurus straight. I hate to have to do this to you. Flub, but thiss gotta be dramatic; theres no other way the publics going to accept this kind of poke More Page Hartford Life from Jack Bonners kids. Flub said, I think were still pushin it. Why dont you read that wyoming game and fish

again before you start smearing that stuff on my face? With anybody else wed probably be pushing it, I agree. Clint gave his brother a clean towel. Here, wipe em More Page Hartford Life with this and Ill try it again. By the day after tomorrow, well have this down pat. He reopened the book. Who vern gosdin

a fuck about oil on Chers forehead? Get .

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