That's more like it, Ace.

Yes, I still live with my parents. My mom had lupus and spends all day watching talk shows and eating 100 calorie bags of Chex Mix. When I come home from, uh, school, the first thing she wants me to do is clean up my room, because I am a pig. My dad is a workaholic, and on the weekends he likes to take drives to La Jolla, because that's where he goes when he's in the mood to suck big cock and have his ass plowed by other successful men who don't know how to express their desires since they were raised in a society that does not condone love between men. When my dad is gone it's usually up to me to entertain my mom, so I pop a couple of muscle relaxers and take her to Arby's. Last week, when we were at Arby's, I excused myself and went to the bathroom, where I unfolded some pages of Maxim that I kept in my back pocket, and I jerked myself to images of, uh, Laura Vandervoort, or someone, using the Horsey sauce as lubricant. Ace, are you still there? Was I too long-winded again? Ace? Hello?