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      "Madam, your daughter is a whore."
      "Excuse me." it wasn't a question. The woman rounded on me with a look in her eye that would have killed a more delicaite person. "What did you call my daughter?"
      "A whore." I responded. I was unashamed of what I knew I waw about to say "your precious little daughter, your perfect little slut got her fuck-me boots a decade too soon." Mothers like this drive me crazy, they have their perfect daughters who are probably sneaking vodka into their sippy cups. It doesn't matter waht's really there, all the want to see is a vision of perfection.

      "She's a perfect little angel!" the woman cried as she covered her "perfect angel's" smirking face with her hands. I had to wonderi f she was seeing the same thing as me, this kid was about four and wearing a top only acceptable on a berlesque dancer, and a skirt that failed to cover her ass. Maybe she was perfect because she had ruffles on her skirt, or because her hair was braided, but I've seen her type. In a few short years she'll be sitting in the back seat of a Hummer thath with a lisence plate that says "TOY4YOU" and wondering where she wen't wrong.

And imagine, if she had listened to that stupid little girl in the produce aisle instead of letting her mother keep blinding her, oh well, at least she'll help keep the economy afloat, because the housing market bubble popped long ago, it's all escorts now...

Description
      "Madam, your daughter is a whore."
      "Excuse me." it wasn't a question. The woman rounded on me with a look in her eye that would have killed a more delicaite person. "What did you call my daughter?"
      "A whore." I responded. I was unashamed of what I knew I waw about to say "your precious little daughter, your perfect little slut got her fuck-me boots a decade too soon." Mothers like this drive me crazy, they have their perfect daughters who are probably sneaking vodka into their sippy cups. It doesn't matter waht's really there, all the want to see is a vision of perfection.

      "She's a perfect little angel!" the woman cried as she covered her "perfect angel's" smirking face with her hands. I had to wonderi f she was seeing the same thing as me, this kid was about four and wearing a top only acceptable on a berlesque dancer, and a skirt that failed to cover her ass. Maybe she was perfect because she had ruffles on her skirt, or because her hair was braided, but I've seen her type. In a few short years she'll be sitting in the back seat of a Hummer thath with a lisence plate that says "TOY4YOU" and wondering where she wen't wrong.

And imagine, if she had listened to that stupid little girl in the produce aisle instead of letting her mother keep blinding her, oh well, at least she'll help keep the economy afloat, because the housing market bubble popped long ago, it's all escorts now...