No one is allowed to smoke in my home. No one. Unless that someone is dead cute, in which case I’m all like, “Ash tray is on the nightstand, sweetie.”
When little sister Laken comes calling from the Delta, ain’t nothing we won’t do in our little corner of the trailer park. No sir. Nothing t'all.
This photo may be familiar to those who follow me on Twitter, as Laken adopted one like it as her avatar. Want to keep up with my minutia? Pursue my trivia by following my tweets. You're already all up in my sex life; you may as well know what I had for lunch.
(Spoiler alert: I had sex for lunch.)
6 comments:
I don't live in a damn trailer!
In that case, I feel very flattered that you let me smoke several cigarettes at your place!
Ahhh trailer or no--this is a delicious image! HHNT to you BOTH!
Smoking and thigh highs...yummy. Plus, it's a Laken!!!!!!!
i'm coming to the city JUST to smoke in your place.
you've been warned.
Well, now that I know that I won't have to go down a million flights of stairs to smoke when I'm visiting you, I may start smoking again.
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