Teen cunt shirt

Teen cunt shirt

My father picked me up from the Teen cunt shirt but in fact I love this station and drove us home in the dark, both of us smoking cigarettes. He’d appeared at the station like a mirage. Not away on business this time. And I was grateful. He was the only person I wanted to see. It was a long ride home. Whenever I got in the car with my father, I’d assail him with whatever music I loved then, cranked loudly: grunge first, and later, goth or industrial. He’d always withstand it. What is this? he’d even ask politely. I’d tell him and he’d always nod thoughtfully and say, It’s nice.

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