I was relatively happy in Jr High, and High School. At puberty I grew into looking like a linebacker with massive hairy legs for marching with a marimba, and now everyone's friend for carrying booze and joints in crevices of the massive marimba for the other band members, as well as racy books to read while bored with the field machinati…
I was relatively happy in Jr High, and High School. At puberty I grew into looking like a linebacker with massive hairy legs for marching with a marimba, and now everyone's friend for carrying booze and joints in crevices of the massive marimba for the other band members, as well as racy books to read while bored with the field machinations was entertaining in the fall and winter, and abandoning Honor Society and other storied institutions on field trips to have underage sex with older men in sleazy joints was a strange poetic justice in the spring. Ahh, sweet gay youth!
I was relatively happy in Jr High, and High School. At puberty I grew into looking like a linebacker with massive hairy legs for marching with a marimba, and now everyone's friend for carrying booze and joints in crevices of the massive marimba for the other band members, as well as racy books to read while bored with the field machinations was entertaining in the fall and winter, and abandoning Honor Society and other storied institutions on field trips to have underage sex with older men in sleazy joints was a strange poetic justice in the spring. Ahh, sweet gay youth!