Mister High-falutin' Lord Esquire and I were slogging back from the Campus Center, ogling the construction workers digging large pits in our lovely campus when I spied something wonderful on the muddy ground. I beckoned BriDaddy Man to come closer and share the magic of this urban artifact. no, it was not a used condom with a syringe stuck in it.....no, it was not a dead squirrel (we saw one of those last week on our coffee run, and we all know the squirrel problems B.Diddy's been having....)
It was a retainer. A retainer with two molars attached to it. I suppose the molars were not real. I never had a retainer. I don't know the details of retainer architecture. Forgive me.
I wanted to pick it up, carry it home and love it forever. That's just my way. Big Daddy Esquire Sir wouldn't let me, not because of reasons of hygiene, but because he didn't want to have to look at my ass as I bent over to fetch it.
10:29 a.m. - 2001-09-22
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