You're nothing but a fucking slut and I have the pictures to prove it." Who told you that? That's a lie! It's all Bullshit! You're bluffing, you don't...have any pictures." She looked a bit worried."Pictures don't lie and I got my hands on a lot of them. You fucking two and three guys at a time and letting a half dozen guys come all over you. I even have some of you with two black guys at the same time." You'll get a chance to see them at our divorce hearing. I'm sure Rob would be interested in. You only wear Batta boots or tire tread sandals, socks are wool and you coat your feet with carbolated Vaseline. Underwear rots on your skin and traps water so that goes too. You dress in tiger-stripe rip-stops with no rank or national insignia and carry weapons and web gear from the world over. There is no exposed metal that shines and glasses DQ one from even joining. You pack in the bare minimum and hope to hell you don't need any thing more. Silence is golden and noise kills so you damn. Pussy is kept trim with a little hair. So we met for lunch and it's just the usual small talk and awkwardness that goes along with a first date. So I ask her if she'd like to go somewhere quiet, she wasn't sure about it. So we went back to the car just to chat. She says she doesn't want to go get a room, at this stage I'm bummed, really bummed. I ask for at least a kiss which she gives me, and then tell her we could have a lot of fun together. Again trying to keep the story somewhat short she. "Calculated to have that effect or not, I began to see my gentile grandmother in a new light.The trip to Portsmouth was a quick one, and Peter Martens was a cheerful, pleasant person who didn't believe a word of what Dad and I told him. Unfortunately, I wasn't remembering anything from the news of the day that could be useful in convincing him, or anyone else. He shook our hands anyway, and I asked him to remember us when the time came.We had debated the practicality of revealing what we knew.