Lord and Master, can we talk about how fuckin lucky you are???!!
I’m purely only lookin at this from a geeked out weirdo perspective, but fuck Master. This woman is gonna make you breakfast on Sunday if you decide that’s what you would like. Bring you the Post, and giggle softly as she walks into a 70 foot by 70 foot closet of shit you bought her, change into somethin classy but casual, and swoon by you and light your cigar, kiss you on the forehead and hand you the Direct tv remote so you can watch sunday football, with commercials of HER in the midst while she gleefully buys you socks while she’s shopping with friends.
Lord, I bow to thee.