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billybroadband
Over 90 days ago
United States

About

I don't think there's anything special about me. I'm mostly happy but sometimes sad, which feels weird some days and normal on other days. Who doesn't have days like that? I'm not much of a writer here, but I have some stuff on the "other" site that some people like. Maybe I'll write some more for here. Good luck and God bless.

Interests
chocolate milk shakes and a nice bone-in ribeye. Tickling grandkids.

Favorite Books
Tarzan and the Jewels of Opar, Time Enough for Love, Another Roadside Attraction, Even Cowgirls Get the Blues.

Favorite Authors
Edgar Rice Burroughs, Robert Heinlein, Tom Robbins.

Favorite Movies
Local Hero, the Fifth Element, the Magnificent Seven, the Seven Samurai, The Big Lebowski, Buckaroo Banzai, My Darling Clementine, The Last of the Mohicans, She Wore A Yellow Ribbon, Cousin, Cousine, Amarcord, Guardians of the Galaxy.

Favorite TV Shows
Seinfeld, Real Detective, Game of Thrones, Taxi, the Mary Tyler Moore show.

Favorite Music
good music, I know it when I hear it. A soft spot for Brazilian.
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He woke up ecstatic and it surprised him. He vaguely recognized the feeling as one that sometimes came to him while he was walking the pup in the early morning as the sun was rising. He was supposed to have died seven years ago. The surgeon had screwed up big time and it was a nurse who saved his life. Since then each morning held that feeling of a second chance. The current year had taken a lot from him, though. He shoul...

I do so love the storm of you. The wild wet winds of your passion Unleashed Ubound Untamed. But it is after the storm, when the calm sets back in and we lie entwined together, those are the moments I most crave. “Pillow time” you called it once. Those long quiet moments No words No sounds No urgency. That is when I seek your eyes with my eyes and drink you in as I let you drink me in, as we explore the each of the other l...

Most of the time they come early in the morning when I just can't sleep. When I realize that I am alone in our bed now made up of memories and dust. Out of nowhere they are there again the damn questions with no answers. Why her? Why me? Why so young? Why? Of course the only answer I ever get is cloaked in silence. The answers are obvious of course, and really are the only ones possible when one stops and thinks about it....

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