"That's the longest tongue I've ever seen except for Gene Simmons. Now I know why it felt so good in my pussy last week." It's a genetic abnormality i... my family. Gene's my uncle." You're bull shitting me!" she screamed. Proper Southern belles would not have approved of that phraseology but it was the only thing that came to her mind."No, he's really my uncle, my mother's oldest brother. I'll introduce you to him."David stuck his tongue out again and wiggled the tip of it, just like Gene always. I looked up, expecting to see the same man from last night. Unshaven,black muscle shirt, and worn jeans, What I saw was a tall, very wellbuilt man with a well trimmed mustache, and neatly combed hair. He waswearing a pair of gray wool slacks, a white shirt, and a light jacket. Instead of black high-top tennis shoes, he wore polished black loafers,and he held a bouquet of flowers in his hand. I just stared at him,and he asked me if I was going to sit there and stare, or was I goingto get my. "Jessica, her mom got a transfer and she moved away like two weeksago..." What!? Are you serious!?" I nearly shouted."Yea, I'm sorry," Robin replied."Well, great, there goes anything resembling a social life I may havehad. Oh well, I guess I'll just go into isolationist mode..." Oh, c'mon, you'll make other friends," Robin said trying to make mefeel better."Heh, yup, befriending nine year olds, exactly my area of expertise. Imean, c'mon, between the whole smart thing and the general. My wife, Kim, occasionallywandered in and stayed for a while. Not so much towatch the game, but to see how drunk I was getting.She’d been getting on me about my drinking and warnedme not to get trashed, but I was pretty gone. I don’teven remember who was playing, or which of the twoteams I was cheering-I just remember taking shots everytime they fouled, every time they missed a shot, andtwo for missing a three-pointer. Paul wasn’t half asshot as I was and had more than one.