Can you write?

[XCWModGramps]

I have long had interest in writing. Have taken a few writing classes to help me in whatever job I had at the time. But writing lets me release a inner thought that at times can only be expressed in a story.

I have wrote blogs for a couple of places and will post a copy of when I get the chance to. Feel free to leave your own story or critic of if you wish.

Next post will be one I wrote a while ago. I will keep the "adult" stories out for now until I get my groove back.

[XCWModGramps]

My Christmas Radio
Saturday December 29, 2007 @ 05:48 PM EST

So it has been a couple of year now since my first interest in cars on a track were tantalized as a youth.As things change in life so do interests of young boys. We went on our vacations the last couple of years like always but never returned to that track in the south.

The fair ran as normal but the last year they replaced the demolition derby with a tractor pull.
I still had my Hot Wheels© and Matchbox© cars tho and the number of dirt tracks made on my own are to numerous to list.

Then Christmas of 1970 hit.Our family did not celebrate as most do and any type of toy or useful item for a child was rare.
So when I opened the small box that was my gift I expected it to be the normal hankies or socks that our cheap parents would buy us.Nothing like getting a child of your own clothes for a gift. But it was what we were use to and grew up with so we really did not
know any different.

I was stunned to find a small Sunoco© transistor AM radio.
It was shaped as a gas pump and the hose flipped up to act as the antenna.This is the year I really found how cheap my parents were in life. The radio was a free gift with 5 fill ups.

So it was a dilemma at first thought. Here these people are so cheap they get me something they got free and probably considered junk but at the same time I really liked this small item and knew I would enjoy it.

I soon found a link to the outside world as I never knew before.
the Detroit Tigers were a very popular team then and I would listen to their games the following summer.

Music I had never known before came through the small speaker to enlighten me to new cultures.

Then one Sunday after church I was looking for anything on the dial. Then I heard it.A guy announcing a race and who was in the running.It was just the last few laps of the race and i could not tell you what race it was. But at the end he told us to be sure to tune in next week.

You can bet your last 15 cents that I got a new 9 volt for the upcoming day.I never even moved the small dial that was set in the radio sideways so when you changed channels it would look as if the gallons of gas was moving and the volume was set to act as the cost window.

I would tune in for that whole summer each week after church. It was also the 1st time I learned what a ear piece was.
Back then they were all the same. There were no “ear buds” or any such thing. You got a one size fits all tan cord ear plug and the jack would fit any radio made at the time.

It was a nice break after a hot boring sermon that a small child should never have to be put through on a nice summer day.

As the season ended I had all but forgot about listening to baseball. I still played the game sure. But some how listening to a baseball game on the radio after hearing a race seemed so much less.

There was no constant roar of the engines in baseball. Racing had no 7th inning stretch. Baseball had no last second dramatical action that could change the outcome of the game. There also was no tie game in racing. First one across the line after a set number of laps determined the winner.

Yes that radio was some gift back then to me. Although it was considered as junk by those who first acquired it.To me it became my first Internet experience in a time before computers.

[Mistermoonlight]

Shake your PG-13 groove thing, gramps!

[XCWModGramps]

Jul 5, 2013 20:39:10 GMT -5 Mistermoonlight said:

Shake your PG-13 groove thing, gramps!

Damn I love that song! Gonna post it somewhere else now!

I will wait to tell you about when he was moving up her leg with light kiss' as her body quivered with anticipation of where his tongue was leading his lips. Or when he bit her inner thigh while she exploded in ecstasy only to clench her legs so tight his head popped off and killed him with an explosion of blood.

But at least she had a happy ending!

[Mistermoonlight]

Jul 5, 2013 20:18:45 GMT -5 XCWModGramps said:

My Christmas Radio
Saturday December 29, 2007 @ 05:48 PM EST

So it has been a couple of year now since my first interest in cars on a track were tantalized as a youth.As things change in life so do interests of young boys. We went on our vacations the last couple of years like always but never returned to that track in the south.

The fair ran as normal but the last year they replaced the demolition derby with a tractor pull.
I still had my Hot Wheels© and Matchbox© cars tho and the number of dirt tracks made on my own are to numerous to list.

Then Christmas of 1970 hit.Our family did not celebrate as most do and any type of toy or useful item for a child was rare.
So when I opened the small box that was my gift I expected it to be the normal hankies or socks that our cheap parents would buy us.Nothing like getting a child of your own clothes for a gift. But it was what we were use to and grew up with so we really did not
know any different.

I was stunned to find a small Sunoco© transistor AM radio.
It was shaped as a gas pump and the hose flipped up to act as the antenna.This is the year I really found how cheap my parents were in life. The radio was a free gift with 5 fill ups.

So it was a dilemma at first thought. Here these people are so cheap they get me something they got free and probably considered junk but at the same time I really liked this small item and knew I would enjoy it.

I soon found a link to the outside world as I never knew before.
the Detroit Tigers were a very popular team then and I would listen to their games the following summer.

Music I had never known before came through the small speaker to enlighten me to new cultures.

Then one Sunday after church I was looking for anything on the dial. Then I heard it.A guy announcing a race and who was in the running.It was just the last few laps of the race and i could not tell you what race it was. But at the end he told us to be sure to tune in next week.

You can bet your last 15 cents that I got a new 9 volt for the upcoming day.I never even moved the small dial that was set in the radio sideways so when you changed channels it would look as if the gallons of gas was moving and the volume was set to act as the cost window.

I would tune in for that whole summer each week after church. It was also the 1st time I learned what a ear piece was.
Back then they were all the same. There were no “ear buds” or any such thing. You got a one size fits all tan cord ear plug and the jack would fit any radio made at the time.

It was a nice break after a hot boring sermon that a small child should never have to be put through on a nice summer day.

As the season ended I had all but forgot about listening to baseball. I still played the game sure. But some how listening to a baseball game on the radio after hearing a race seemed so much less.

There was no constant roar of the engines in baseball. Racing had no 7th inning stretch. Baseball had no last second dramatical action that could change the outcome of the game. There also was no tie game in racing. First one across the line after a set number of laps determined the winner.

Yes that radio was some gift back then to me. Although it was considered as junk by those who first acquired it.To me it became my first Internet experience in a time before computers.

I love it. You got to listen to your transistor radio in church? Wow!

I'm afraid you've opened up a sieve here for me. Little did I know that that first transistor radio (mine was Japanese, that's all I remember, but it had the one earphone you described) would change my entire life.

Who even realizes that anything can change your life when you are 5 or 6 years old?

I wanted to become one of those voices in the night that I heard on the AM radio dial.

And I did.

But that's a story to be written on another day.

For me it was Milo and Ernie, calling the Atlanta Braves games, back when Hank Aaron was all the magic and grace a young Southern white boy needed, or could even imagine existed back in a time when there were separate bathrooms for White and Colored.

The classic Universal Monsters on television (Frankenstein, Dracula, The Wolf-Man) would inspire me, as would Rod Serling's The Twilight Zone, but in the end it was radio that spoke to whatever inside me might be considered a soul.

Thank you for helping me to remember that first time. You have taken me back to the beginning of all things.

That's what your remembrance inspired, and that's one of the reasons that writing is important.

[mercurytheatre]

I am embarassed...are you the real Gramps?

...I hope so....

[XCWModGramps]

Jul 5, 2013 21:50:58 GMT -5 mercurytheatre said:

I am embarassed...are you the real Gramps?

...I hope so....

As in a actual Gramps with grand kids? or
The EX moderator CWModGramps on the CW boards?

Yes to both, but I started real young so I am not as old as some may think.

[Mistermoonlight]

Jul 5, 2013 21:50:58 GMT -5 mercurytheatre said:

I am embarassed...are you the real Gramps?

...I hope so....

Do you want to smell his truss to be sure?

YES!!!

He's here again. He's the same one.

Now let's go kill a fatted calf.

[mercurytheatre]

Gramps!!!

[Mistermoonlight]

If we can ever get him drunk enough, Gramps is going to become the Fred McMurray/Marilyn Manson overlord of this site.

[mercurytheatre]

Now would that be the Steve Douglas....or the Prof. Ned Brainard ?

[XCWModGramps]

Jul 5, 2013 22:19:04 GMT -5 mercurytheatre said:

Now would that be the Steve Douglas....or the Prof. Ned Brainard ?

More like Walter Neff.

[mercurytheatre]

But...you lived...right?

[XCWModGramps]

Jul 5, 2013 22:41:24 GMT -5 mercurytheatre said:

But...you lived...right?

No.
But that is also why I am known as REAPER on many many forums.

[mercurytheatre]

[Mistermoonlight]

We know that he's got the stuff.

[Aeryn]

Jul 5, 2013 22:46:51 GMT -5 XCWModGramps said:

Jul 5, 2013 22:41:24 GMT -5 mercurytheatre said:

But...you lived...right?

No.
But that is also why I am known as REAPER on many many forums.

WRITE SOME PORN!!!!!!!

[Mistermoonlight]

Uh-oh.

[Aeryn]

[XCWModGramps]

Jul 5, 2013 23:03:16 GMT -5 Aeryn said:

Jul 5, 2013 22:46:51 GMT -5 XCWModGramps said:

WRITE SOME PORN!!!!!!!

I am up to 7 double shots of Absolut! You sure about that?

[XCWModGramps]

8

[Mistermoonlight]

8? That qualifies you as Catholic School Girl new member.

[Aeryn]

Jul 5, 2013 23:13:34 GMT -5 XCWModGramps said:

Jul 5, 2013 23:03:16 GMT -5 Aeryn said:

Jul 5, 2013 22:46:51 GMT -5 XCWModGramps said:

WRITE SOME PORN!!!!!!!

I am up to 7 double shots of Absolut! You sure about that?

DO IT! DO IT!! I FUCKING DARE YOU!

[XCWModGramps]

Little Rock, Arkansas 1968
Sunday August 26, 2007 @ 05:07 PM EDT

It was a vacation destination for our family every year. The first stop of heading west to unknown places each year. Most times my dad and mom would get matching weeks off for vacation and like most people back then we went on the road.

My dads Dad lived in Little Rock, Arkansas and it was always our 1st stop. Now I know it is not the deep south but it was the south to us Michiganders. Back in the early 60’s up to about 1971 Little Rock and the small towns around were a sight to behold.

Back home as I explained before was a mix of college’s and factories with a mix of people that offered every color of the rainbow. Yeah I knew of the race problems and the civil rights movement and MLK being killed just the past April.

The riots in town and a couple within my own school brought much of it to light. I never looked at people and saw a color. To me either you were a friend or you weren’t. I am not sure many of the small kids even knew what the big deal was. We all played together, went to school with each other and walked home together.
Well small towns in Arkansas can teach you a lot about that sort of thing. Good and bad.

Grampa was poor. I never thought of such things then but living in a small owner built house with chickens and goats that ran freely around the yard and you would think I was back in the 1800’s. All I was waiting for was Matt Dillon to
trot through town on his horse.

But for a kid at that time it was only a reminder when you made the walk to the outhouse. A night trip in rain when the snakes were lookin for a dry place was a blog in itself.

Heck it was the biggest playground one could imagine as a small boy. Girls(sisters) dint like it to much but, eh, they were girls so who cared.

A walk into town would make the times all to real for me. Signs at restaurants. Signs at bathrooms. Signs at the drinking fountains. Almost anywhere you went in or walked had a sign. Well the side of town my Grampa lived on dint have any signs anywhere. No instructions for those who were black or white. Heck not one of
us kids talked much about color of people’s skin. Mostly we tried to ignore it but it was difficult when you had friends on both sides of the fence.

This was the first year being down here that I remember any activity we went and did. My mom yelled out to us to get cleaned up. Which meant washing your face and hands and dang well better wash behind yer ears. She started putting blankets in the back and had a basket of sandwich’s, homemade fried pork rind and pickles. Cold chicken in the mix goes without saying. Oh and the jug. Shine down there was the norm as liquor stores were far and few between.

All of us kids piled in the station wagon and my dad and grampa got in grampa’s car and off we went. What town I dint know or how many miles away but it did not seem to far. We pulled in to a dusty parking lot with guys standing around pointing in the direction you were to park.

Looking out the window of the back we could see a ferris wheel, a merry-go-round and other carnival rides from the times. My brother and I looked at each other in disbelief. Our parents weren’t exactly the kind to take us anywhere let alone a place designed for kids to have fun.

We unloaded the car filling our arms with the blankets and food. The jar of ice tea and kool-aid. My grampa handed me his jug asking me if I could carry one more thing. As I said yes he made sure to tell me not to drop it.
No one looked twice at anyone. There were no signs around as we walked closer to the crowd. People of every color were around. Not necessarily sitting next to each other but there were no words tossed back an forth among them either.

As we laid out our spot my brother and I started walking around. Still having no idea what was going on we soon saw. Past the fence was a large dirt track. At least large to me. The 8 track back home was a 1/8th mile, strictly small time stuff. This looked a hundred times as big. It wasn’t of course but in a kids eye it was.

They had telephone poles around the track making a huge square in the middle of the track. I thought to myself how dumb this was. I mean how are they gonna make a figure 8 with all that stuff blocking the middle. It wasn’t long before most of the kids were up by the fence looking around trying to see over each other.

We all were trying to see what the noise was. I knew what it was. it was cars. I heard em before back home and I just knew. Well as most kids would do since I figured I knew what I was talking about and became the expert among some of the other kids. Telling em they were gonna race. We started talking and acting big and it wasn’t long before we considered our-selfs friends with a few local kids and we all found a good place away from the adults to sit and watch.

They lined up the cars on the track. More cars then I knew could race. Back home they only raced 4 at a time and the bigger race had 10. These guys were lining up what seemed like 15 or 20 cars at a time. As they started slowly down the front stretch I wondered how they were going to make a 8 still not realizing I was about to watch my first oval track race.

They roared past us after the green flew. All those cars at one time. The dust and dirt flying all the way up to where us kids sat chasing even the skeeters to higher ground. I stood there in awe as they drove past. The sound. The smell. The feel of it all. It was like the first time a person realizes there really is a God above and chills run down your spine.

Along the back of the track there must have been a opening where cars could pull in because after a few laps and flat tires some of the cars would pull inside the telephone outlined area to change or fix whatever it was. This went on for a while. I never counted the laps but looking back I believe it was 25 lap heat races. The last race had a lot of the cars that had raced in the others but not all. I wasn’t sure how things worked as far as heat races and the feature at the end and such but I was learning.

That last race was enormous (to me) there must have been 30 or more cars on the track. Between myself and a few other kids I wasn’t sure people behind us could see as we had all but climbed the fence by now.

The heck with the dust and dirt. The heck with the warnings yelled out behind us from parents. The heck with the deafening sound on each pass. A lot of us just had to be as close to the action as we could get.

We had our favorites already picked and us kids were hollering like no tomorrow for each one. If you looked back you could see some of the parents yelling and cheering on right along with us. It was at that moment I realized a place like this was more then just a park with cars going around in circles. There was no fighting about skin color. There were no signs telling who could go where and sit where because of skin color. Everybody seemed to talk to each other and get along well enough. Yes this was much more than a place where cars went around in circles. It was almost magical to me seeing all this at one time. It was almost like we were all family at a reunion with the best softball game in town.

I know now times weren’t all fun and roses back in them days. Heck I knew then they weren’t. But a place like this. A place where everyone seemed to get along even if it was just a few hours. Where one could walk from picnic table to the next having food of some sort offered even if you did not know who was offering.

A place where the men sat up higher then the rest passing a jug around. A place where the kids could get up close to the action and believe they were inside those cars driving kicking up dirt. Whether it was back in Michigan at the local 8 or down here hundreds of miles away the people all acted the same. Happy.

Getting along. Enjoying what was in front of them as it was with out expectations. Where the women gathered far away at the tables and talked about what ever it was women talk about.

Yes this was a grand place to be. Again I knew I was a fan and it was getting more clear as to why. It wasn’t only the cars going in circles. It wasn’t the kids finding instant friends. It wasn’t even the fact that it seemed like everybody got along no matter the circumstances.

It was all of it together that made it special and leaving that night felt like I was leaving a place I had always been.

Although I never was before that one night.

[Deleted]

Write me cannot

[XCWModGramps]

Jul 7, 2013 20:01:31 GMT -5 @smallvillian0 said:

Write me cannot

If at first........

[Kimba116]

I'm a writer but my passion is poetry. Take a look over on the creativity part of the site and you can read the ones i posted. There's a lot of members that are gifted in their own rights.
Chloe, you're a better writer than you think.

[Mistermoonlight]

Jul 7, 2013 20:01:31 GMT -5 @smallvillian0 said:

Write me cannot

You write pretty one day.

[XCWModGramps]

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

I can't remember if I cried when I read about his widowed bride but something touched me deep inside, the day, the music, died.

Wow! We grow up so fast sometimes I think some of us leave a trail of dust as it never slows down. 1967-68 school year. 3rd grade. Mrs. Butler. Woodward school. Class on first floor windows facing Stuart Street. There was a house directly across the street that soon became my escape in day dreaming. Our chairs faced the chalk board with the windows behind us. The only time you could look out was during our art sessions or right after lunch when we were allowed to pick a book off the back shelf. If I remember correctly right after lunch we had a reading period for a hour or so.

Class size back then was always more than 30 kids to a class. We would start our multiplication tables and I would use the rows of seats to figure out math problems. It was quick and easy and I don't know if I was the only one that used that system but it seemed like it. We had 42 chair/desks in the room with some pushed off to the side on the left of class and about 36 lined up in rows squared to 6x6 rows.Teachers desk up front and center.

Mrs. Butler was a taller older woman. This and well groomed. Except I would wager she never heard of mouthwash. There were 2 things I remember about her and always will. Her bad breath and extra long finger nails. A very stern woman who gave no warnings in class and expected 100% attention paid to her when she spoke or wrote on the chalk board. Absolute silence at all times unless you were spoke to or asked to respond to a question. She did not ask twice and you had better hope you heard her the first time. Her main source of getting your attention was grabbing your shoulder and digging her nails in your skin until it either bled or left a blood blister from the pinch between the nails. She never did this to the girls in class and I am sure us boys gave her enough cause to not even pay attention to the girls in class much anyway.

Danny Davis was in my class as was Otis again. Eddy was in another and now I knew he was in a grade above us as he was in the 4th grade classes upstairs. Terry Newhouse had moved right before the school year started. My heart was broken when she came over to tell me. She explained that her dad had got a new job in the "country" and we would never see each other again. We kissed long and made a promise that no matter what we would find each other and runaway and be together. She was my escape after school and meant a lot to me back then. I cried for days about her leaving and would walk past her house or sit on the porch hoping they would come back. But it was never to be and my little heart was broke.

I know now that her dad moved for a reason. I did not know then but later on would figure it out. In fact I noticed this year in school many of the white kids had moved from the area. The school ratio now was about 10 to 1 black to white in school. It didn't bother me and never did. At this age I only saw other kids still not colors. I knew who the "bad ones" were but they came in both colors and you learned to not hang out with kids that were only looking for trouble. Soon I would be label to be one of those kids. I didn't know it until much later but other parents told their kids not to play with me because of who I played with. Jimmy Rasmussen was one of those kids I met this year. As was A kid with the last name of Hubbard. I want to say Ron but am not sure. He also had a younger brother that he had to watch out for as did I.

My brother now being in first grade I would have to make sure that he not only got to school OK but that he also got home OK. Some of my other friends also found themselves in this predicament and we all sort of grouped ourselves together. As soon as the school was in sight our younger brothers or sisters were not allowed to talk to us unless it was a emergency. Hell even then we would tell them to go tell a teacher or the school nurse if it warranted.

When we would get to school there started to be groups of kids that would just stand around. 1st and 2nd grade when getting to school the other kids would have a baseball game going on in the back and some would be playing dodge ball in another part of the field in back of the school. In the front were the swing sets and teet-r-totters and merry-go-round and monkey bars. Never just standing around doing nothing. But this year was different when we got there. Black kids on one side of the playground and the white kids on the other side.
Even the girls would split but stand in the shadows of the boys. I never knew who started this bullshit and some of the grown-ups started saying or calling us gangs. We weren't. Just a bunch of confused kids still in elementary school acting on what parents told us. Or tried to at least. Friends were friends damnit and most of us felt that way.

Some of the older kids would start to run around the building in a group. The white kids most times started first just running around the building in a big group. Then the black kids would do the same thing at first nothing was said between the two groups running. Then one day someone started with the name calling. I heard nigger again. Out of one of my friends fucking mouths! I could not believe it. The kids name I don't recall as he was not a friend for long but I confronted him with Otis by my side. He told us that his dad told him to call the black kids that because that's all they were. We didn't blame him and as much as he tried he never really fit in our group anymore.

Our group was both colors. There were no Spanish kids(Mexicans) around back then. It was black and white kids. We were all friends and if you were not you could still run with us as long as you didn't call names out as you did. We didn't want any fighting in our group but proclaimed to be the toughest of the 3 that there were. We may have been the younger kids. We may have been the smaller kids. But there were more of us. Plus Eddy B would stand behind our group if ever we needed because of his friendship with me.
As the other 2 groups would start running around the school our group would also start. Our run though was much different. We didn't want any fighting or trouble and it would piss us off when others would start. So we would race em. That's right as they started running around the school we would run up next to them at high speed and look at them and tell em they were slow and laugh. Then we would pass them. Like race cars on a track lapping the slower cars this turned the contest into a challenge. I was fast and I would even wager that I was the fastest white kid in the school. I could outrun even the 6th graders that were there. My sister Patty was probably the only white kid faster than I was at the time but my goal was to be faster then her and I worked at it everyday.
I had been running so much already in my life it was just natural for me. I could run faster backward then my brother could forward. Linda was never really that fast and I never saw Ruthie or Nancy run at all that I remember.

These morning and after lunch runs were getting the attention of the teachers soon after we started them. I can not even imagine what they thought back then when they looked out the windows. HAHAHAHA It must have terrified some of the teachers back then. To look out the window and see the entire student body of males joined by some of the females broken up in groups like we were running around the school. When we would go around the corners in the back of the school you could use your hand to push off the wall. That is how close we ran to the school/ Only a few feet from the walls of the building it must have looked like a pack of Indians surrounding the wagons at the start of a war. This was 300 to 400 kids mind you so there were a bunch of us.

No fights ever developed out of those runs and it would soon became a bore to the older kids with us younger ones always trying to make a game out of it. I never knew what the intentions were of whomever started the runs but the final impact was a togetherness at our school. Plus the gym teacher saw who was fast and started a track team that year.

The teachers themselves seemed angrier this year as well. Except for Mrs Troff who I still would ask if she needed my help when I saw her and I still made it a point to try to say morning to her everyday. I heard talk from some of the older kids about their brothers going away. I still did not know where they went as we were still not allowed to watch TV and I was learning by now a routine that would only put me at home long enough to do my chores,eat or sleep otherwise I was gone from there.

My sister Ruth also graduated this school year and I am sure some of her friends went over as well at the time. I noticed a change in her as well and by now she was hardly home at all. Yes this school year was starting out totally and far different from what I had expected and in fact will probably take a number of writings to get through it rather then making this one longer then it is. So get ready because I am just at the start of the school year and boy-oh-boy did a lot happen.


Top 40 Hits of September 1968
1-Beatles-Hey Jude
2-Mary Hopkin-Those Were The Days
3-Bee Gees-I've Gotta Get A Message To You
4-Beach Boys-Do It Again
5-Aretha Franklin-I Say A Little Prayer
6-Johnny Nash-Hold Me Tight
7-Casuals-Jesamine
8-Herb Alpert-This Guy's In Love With You
9-Amen Corner-High In The Sky
10-Canned Heat-On The Road Again
11-Union Gap-Lady Willpower
12-Tom Jones-Help Yourself
13-Leapy Lee-Little Arrows
14-Mama Cass-Dream A Little Dream Of Me
15-Otis Redding-Hard To Handle
16-Mason Williams-Classical Gas
17-Status Quo-Ice In The Sun
18-Herman's Hermits-Sunshine Girl
19-Des O'Connor-I Pretend
20-Crazy World Of Arthur Brown-Fire
21-Tommy James & The Shondells-Mony Mony
22-Bruce Channel-Keep On
23-Sly & The Family Stone-Dance To The Music
24-Doors-Hello I Love You
25-Dave Clark Five-Red Balloon
26-Nice-America
27-Vanity Fare-I Live For The Sun
28-Four Tops-Yesterday's Dreams
29-Dusty Springfield-I Close My Eyes And Count To Ten
30-Moody Blues-Voices In The Sky
31-Love Affair-A Day Without Love
32-Kinks-Days
33-Band-The Weight
34-Fleetwood Mac-Need Your Love So Bad
35-Grapefruit-C'Mon Marianne
36-Tremeloes-My Little Lady
37-Tyrannosaurus Rex-One Inch Rock
38-Hugh Montenegro-The Good, The Bad And The Ugly
39-Simon & Garfunkel-Mrs Robinson
40-Jose Feliciano-Light My Fire

[Aeryn]

*waits for porn*