Drop the kids off and then your mine.
I can’t quite get over last week. My wife and family are all D: but I wanna hear you, maga momma, you gloating, arrogant, confused as you are, groan and groan deeply and defiantly.
In your car, in your home, in your garage with your car keys in your hand. You can’t help it. And it’s likely that going maga was your own little secret you’ve yet to share. I want to hear about why and your inner maga world and your nonsense logic of sucking up to the orange narcissistic criminal. Meanwhile I get to play with you freely, as I decide, and leave you with a huge load, and I haven’t decided where I’m going to leave it yet.
Me: tall, educated, fit, open minded, discreet. Friendly.
No flakes please. Especially maga flakes. And no dudes.
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