She kept me at an exact six inches for some reason.
What the reason was, it was beyond me.
As almost everything else was beyond me.
I made up songs for Sarah, that's what I called them: Songs for Sarah: "o, I'm just a little snot, that's all right until I get hot, then there's nothing to stick it in except the fucking head of a pin! Sarah would clap her hands and laugh.
if ya wanna be an admir in the queen's navy just be a clark for the fuckin' nark, grow 6 inches tall and when the Queen goes to pee you can peek up inter drippin' pussy..." And Sarah would clap her hands and laugh.
Well, that was all right.
It had to be... But one night something very disgusting happened.
I was singing and dancing and Sarah was on the bed, naked, clapping her hands, drinking wine and laughing.
I was putting on a good show.
One of my best.
But, as always, the top of the radio got hot and started burning my feet.
