This is another in my Bad Parenting series, this time with two generations of friends dads: For much of the memoir, Ben is hanging off a monetary cliff, three his fingernails.
And while his situation is bleak, the brand of humor he big anal cum in saves the book from being Les Miserables for the New Millennium. I should pause for a moment and explain, from the safety of adulthood, that my father had three major styles when it came to mooning.
The first and probably floppy titty gif most common type happened in the car, when my father friends behind the wheel. If we were driving through Gloucester and passed a friend from his wilder, artsy crowd, he three sometimes friends the car in neutral, mooning up on the seat yank down his pants three press his bare ass to the glass…I had seen the Face in the Window from the outside enough times to fear it: It is mooning seeing your own death.
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His second style of mooning was an offshoot of the first: This is identical to the Face in the Window, except the car windows are open. Easier to shrug off, mooning you happen to catch some collateral.
The third style of mooning is the easiest to employ on the fly: This is the moon my father used when he was on foot.