COSTELLO: Okay, so it's 23% unemployed.ABBOTT: No, that's 5.6%.COSTELLO: WAIT A MINUTE. Is it 5.6% or 23%?ABBOTT: 5.6% are unemployed. 23% are out of ...ork.COSTELLO: If you are out of work you are unemployed.ABBOTT: No, Obama said you can't count the "Out of Work" as the unemployed. You have to look for work to be unemployed.COSTELLO: BUT THEY ARE OUT OF WORK!!!ABBOTT: No, you miss his point.COSTELLO: What point?ABBOTT: Someone who doesn't look for work can't be counted with those who look for. I just wasn’t sure if I was ready to talk yet. I rolled over to start with push-ups. ‘You’re supposed to work out before you shower,’ Wes said. ‘Fuck off.’ He chuckled. ‘Man you’re grumpy. Still following Dad’s advice, huh?’ He wandered over, multi-tasking between me and his phone. ‘Work harder, burns you out faster.’ He sat on my back. I nearly burst into laughter, and managed about three more push-ups with his added weight before my arms trembled, muscles going like jelly with my chuckling. I. . Then, it began for her!She didn't want it... and she was helpless to stop it! Erotically, she felt his finger tracing the thin, pink slit of her pulsing, naked cunt, and she shivered with abhorrence, trying to squirm away from it. Then, he insinuated his finger into her cuntal passage, and there was a moment of salaciously prurient agitation... of warm need... and a strange, masochistic desire... of wanting it to go on, debasing her, humiliating her, beyond reason. She couldn't have explained. “I’ll come into your mouth, Ana,” Dillon proposed. “If you can take my whole cock into your ass without crying. Without shedding a tear.” “Oh Dillon!” Ana said, as he slowly lowered her recently stretched and lubricated asshole onto the fleshy fat head of his cock. As he slipped into the little sperm-burping waif, she moaned loudly. “Oh god that’s a FAT cock! Oh god, Dillon, go slow,” she said, wiggling excitedly. Dillon lowered her further onto his cock as she gasped for breath. He.