Bored Nearly To Tears free porn video

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He’s at it again. Yack, yack, yacking. How can one man be so dense that he can’t see that my eyes are glazed, my mind, now nearly full of stuff that I may never need has begun to turn to mush. I have just become a receptacle for his useless, endless chatter. I am so far beyond caring what is streamed into head that I now make no effort to take in and process all of the facts that are being introduced against my will into my subconscious and conscious mind.

If I sit within talking distance then I quickly become ‘the listener’. Stories of what happened today, what he thought should have happened, what may happen tomorrow all are brought to bear on my poor abused ears. The tales of what will happen when he finally win’s the lottery and all he will do with all of that money. The endless recounting of ‘one time’ and ‘when I was a kid’ and ‘I knew this guy who knew this guy’…

I will never need to know how to align pipes in the ground. I don’t care that blue ice falls from the sky at a velocity of…

I don’t want to or, need to know the properties of diatomaceous earth verses other dirt. No! No! NO! I do NOT want to know how the filter on the refrigerator works again and why! It works, that’s enough for me. Why do I need to know the process for refining oil into gas and in such detail? People already do that and they don’t think I need to know or there would be a class I could take.

What do you mean what am I going to do if the world goes to crap? It already is crap and I guarantee I won’t be trying to refine oil into gas at that point.

Why would I care that there’s a special sheetrock for bathroom’s, wet room’s, sauna’s, and any place that’s going to get steamy or wet. I’m not going to install any special sheetrock. I’m not going to install any sheetrock at all. I promise I won’t, so please, please, please don’t tell me how to do it one more time! I no longer care that there is a difference between black walnuts and English walnuts or what that difference is. Do I really need to know the appropriate distance of safety cone placement on the freeway verses on the street? No, I do not need to no that!

For such a bright man he seems especially dim when the words begin to pour out of him. Does he still wonder why I like the safe distance of at least one room of separation, or does he know and just not care?

In the car it’s even worse, I am truly a captive audience of one. I’m forced to endure the long ramblings of a short attentioned mind. His thoughts, flitting from subject to subject like a butterfly in the garden, strung into words and sentences, buzzing from his lips like lost, misguided bees pour into my ears and puddle in my head, a stinging assault I am obligated to collect in the recesses of my mind and file away for never. Oh sure, these thing’s I’ve heard and filed away will surface again and again as the often already do. When I pick vegetables at the farmers market, the watering system and the pesticide delivery systems and the rate of pay farmers receive all circle in my head… Oooh, make it stop!!

I often wonder if my brain will fill up with this nonsense and overflow. Maybe it will leave me with a lack of available space for all of the things I’d like to fill it with. Will I one day be following my own dreams and desires only to find…I have no more storage in my head. If that does happen, will I be able to send all of this useless information…elsewhere? Maybe my head will just get bigger and bigger…

I used to sit in horrified awe and watch as he would inflict his endless wealth of absolutely useless knowledge on others and wonder at the many tactics they employed to redirect the stream of his gibber from their own ears. I’ve seen it all, from the quiet cough, the turning of the shoulder, the dismissive nods, the rolling eyes, the finger placed, just so, upon their lips, the universal symbol of hush. Many times I see them casting desperate, pitiful looks to the people around themselves, surely someone will take pity and save them… anyone?

All to no avail. Still the talking continues the cue’s ignored. The ones with enough intelligence or self preservation to offer a rushed ‘excuse me’ and head in another direction are quickly pursued, much to their dismay. Poor fool’s, there is no escape. He still has so many things he’d like to share with them.

Now as I see him with others, giving so freely from the fount of never ending drivel, I smile and think to myself, better you than me.

Finally a few moments of silence.

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Kenshin: Miss Misao... (Footsteps pound down the hall.) Sanosuke: Hm? Omasu: Misao!! (She and the rest if the Oniwabanshuu charge in.) Omasu: Oh, Kenshin, you're here too? Great! Everyone, come on! (They carry them off.) Sanosuke (left behind): What the hell... (from outside): I'm with the police. Is anyone home? Misao: What's going on? Omasu: It's Okina! Misao: What's wrong with Gramps!? Omasu: He's regained consciousness! (A little later. Okina sits up and reties the...

A very Naughty Girl Nearly Has An Accident

I slammed the brakes on hard. Really hard. The car skidded a bit, the anti-lock brakes kicked in and I watched in horror. My car stopped about three feet from the side door of the car in front of me. I gazed out of the front of the windscreen and stared at the blue car in front of me that had swerved to avoid the collision. I Looked to my right and then I remembered that there were white lines on the road that I had crossed. I should have stopped, it was all my fault. I had been driving along a...

Shy Bex nearly fucked bbc

It’s always been a fantasy of mine to watch my wife Bex fucking another man. Especially a black man. I love the thought of her white skin touching his black skin. She’s always known I have this fantasy but has always just laughed it off but after a few drinks would agree going black would be her preferred option but then always says she would never do it anyway and I would never push her. Over the next few months we would often talk about black men while fucking and it was always a big turn...

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