You wicked, wicked man…

“Oh, that’s quite all right, Boys. These aren’t cigars, that’s an old box they came in, a gift from a Cuban hooker I was bangin’ in the late 90s. That’s just where I keep my weed stash.” I said as I pulled out my supply of Purple Haze.
Mormon Missionaries Found Us in Our New Neighborhood
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The Mouthy Renegade Writer
Author, D. Denise Dianaty
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Jun 12, 2024
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You wicked, wicked man…
Where's mine?
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Written by Author, D. Denise Dianaty10.4K Followers
·8.1K Following
Artist, Poet, author, wife & mom May my epitaph be "She reflected love into the world."
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