Fifty Shames of Earl Grey: A Parody
Fanny Merkin, Andrew Shaffer
reducing my head. I don’t are looking to see the discontentment in his eyes. He places a hand lower than my chin and lightly tilts my face up towards him. “It’s okay,” he says, his eyes and voice gentle and forgiving. “It’s okay.” I start crying. The tears movement speedy and quickly, like it’s raining. Oh, wait—it is raining. i suppose I’m no longer crying in any case. “Let me fly you men again to Portland prior to this hurricane alternatives up,” he says, kissing me on my brow. We come again at the helicopter. Kathleen and Jin are.
by myself then,” Dr. Drew says, displaying himself out. Earl has stripped his pants and boxers off, and mounts the mattress. i'm bare beneath him, able to settle for his inflexible disco stick. Out of the nook of my eye, i will be able to see that the rest room door is cracked open somewhat. a couple of beady eyes peeks via at us. “Wait,” I say. “I can see you, Dr. Drew.” He steps out of the lavatory. “Oh,” he says. “I was once simply, ah, um, washing my fingers sooner than I left. sanatorium policy.” Earl stares him down and Dr.
With this meeting,” he says, placing the world’s most pretty lady on hold—for me. “Okay, Mr. Grey,” the receptionist says. “Can you ask omit scouse borrow if she would favor her gravy introduced into your place of work? She left her glass within the lobby.” Earl cocks an eyebrow at me quizzically. I shake my head. “That won’t be necessary,” he says. “If she will get thirsty, I’m certain we will locate anything for her to drink in here.” He smiles villainously and hangs up the speakerphone. “Pardon the interruption.
go into reverse, and expectantly you won’t need to swap pace. Okay?” I nod, because the hills zip by way of us at the correct . . . and a thousand-foot cliff looms to the left. Gulp. Earl attempts rolling down his window, yet it’s locked. “Can you switch the kid lock off?” he asks me. As I seek the driver’s-side door for the kid lock, the PT Cruiser chasing us faucets our bumper. I seize the steerage wheel with either arms and begin hyperventilating. “I can’t do this,” I say. Earl grips my arm and gazes gazingly.
virtually completely in China, essentially within the Fujian province,” he says. “White tea comes from the fragile buds and more youthful leaves of the chinese language Camellia sinensis plant. those buds and leaves are allowed to wither in usual sun earlier than they're flippantly processed to avoid oxidation.” Wow. “Where does the identify ‘white tea’ come from?” “It derives from the superb silvery-white hairs at the unopened buds of the tea plant, which supplies the plant a whitish appearance,” he says, sipping his.