The part
about being "more old-fashioned" than most is off-putting but, other
than that, you seem like the slutty grand-daughter I never had. I might be able
to find a use for you in my life if you are at all interested. If not, take the
***** rating as an Ebert review from an old fart who finds you much more
interesting than you find him. This happens a lot whenever I get in a
"hope springs eternal" sort of mood and contact a breasted-life-form
under the age of 30. Believe it or not, I was Cougar-bait back when I was your
age. It never occurred to me as I basked in the splendor in those golden,
unproductive years to ask myself what I was going to do once all the women old
enough to be my mom were either dead or so afraid of death that they had found
Jesus and/or lost permanent control of their bladders. Have a nice day. If you
feel the need for grandfatherly advice, try to always save string and never eat
anything bigger than your head. Following these simple rules have not always kept
my life happy but at least I'm not dead yet and still have control over my
bladder even with my asymmetrical prostrate and all. In the long run, it’s the
little things that matter.
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