He was always slapping my ass or copping a feelof my tits when we'd pass each other around the house anyways. Sex wasjust the next stop along the line... Letting him have a taste of me was afair exchange for the magic he crafted in the basement.A few months later, Lou and I were in a truck stop. He kept meperpetually high and that was fine with me. He left me sitting in abooth while he went off to find a friend of his that we were supposed tomeet. I passed the time by winking, or blowing kisses,. I laugh because honestly at that statement all i can do is laugh. If i get angry, protest, become involved, speak up about how degrading it feels to have women openly laugh at masculinity then i prove (as i'm sure this blog will eventually end up there, if so hello ladies) the statement right. But if i grin and bear it, not say a word and laugh at my brothers who do protest what i feel is the equivalent of blowing up feminism, then i only aid the problem. Don't get me wrong, I understand. It. More

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