I don’t want foreplay, I don’t need to be pumped on for five minutes, I don’t want to know his name, just spew and go! Now I am not some young t...ailer park slut. I have a MBA from an Ivy Leauge School, I earn a six figure income and own my own software company. My husband earns six figures also. I just turned fifty, work out with a trainer three times a week. I am five foot one and weigh about a hundred pounds. I have been told that I am attractive. This has always been a secret. The way I. Magic tricks aside, I figured that I could make a similar funnel with a piece of my newspaper and use that to transfer the ants.With my impromptu funnel in one hand, I used the other to unscrew the lid and pick up the jar. I quickly upended the jar over the funnel, hoping that none of the ants would try to climb up and out of the funnel– I had no free hands with which to recapture any that escaped. I needn't have worried, for the ants dutifully marched right down the newspaper funnel and into. He gripped his sheets and yanked them off, spilling Tracy over in the process. She yelped. "Sean!"He climbed out of bed and marched out of his room. Walking down the hallway, adjusting his sweat pants, he picked up the towel Tracy had dropped and headed for the dryer, Tracy scampering behind him. "I can do it! I can put them in the dryer, Sean, let me do it."Tracy darted around him, reaching the utility closet before him and opening the washer. On her tippy toes, she reached in and grabbed her. Do you want me to open this?”“Really, I think we should move into the back seat first. It’s chilly out there.”“Well, I’ll go. You have the heater up high, though.”“Yeah. We have the car warm enough if we don’t open the doors. Unfortunately...”... “Yeah. It was chilly. What are you doing with the door still open?”“Just scoot over and take the blanket with you. I’m moving this seat as far forward as it will go.”“Okay, now you have lots of room. It’s still chilly.”“Well, we have room now, if not.