Mr. Rogers Neighborhood
Lady Aberlin was not a major hottie and she was flat-chested, but when there was absolutely nothing else on TV in the middle of the day and I had to watch something because I was tired or home sick or my kids were watching or something, I hoped that the pure innocent Lady Aberlin, on the occasions that she wore something a little scooping, would lean over enough to give that King puppet hovering above her a good view of her little titties, and since he was king he could do whatever he wanted with his subjects, and the subject on his mind was Lady Aberlin. So after His Highness’s little puppet hands roamed all over the Lady’s long hard dark nipples, the king’s wood head, with his crown working like ridges on a condom, ruled Lady Aberlin’s every crevice, burrowing into her dark brown bush and giving her a royal ravaging as her big eyes bugged out. After all, it was the town of make believe, and that’s what I wanted to make believe. And perhaps Fred Rogers made believed that, too.
|