I Like More The Sister, Because She Has Tits I...

Federico lived back in the days with fashions such as black dots on ladies’ cheeks, powdered wigs complete with bugs as well as bad teeth indeed as they we’re looked after with chalk, mercury or what have you from the crazy ailment department down the corner shop pharmacist… well, these aesthetic standards were the thing among the noble gents and ladies in 18th Century France before the guillotines went on overtime.A fountain of happy spurting dolphinsFederico wasn’t overly fashionable – well, he didn’t wear ostrich feathers for one - but he did care not to fall behind the band wagon so he dabbled away with the odd wig as the rest of them. Also, he wanted to be a man of importance, preferably at the royal court in Versailles. The place to be if you fancy a vibe straight out of Blur's ’Girls and Boys’, you know. Federico was a bit of a poet in his early manhood. Sonnets seemed to pour out of his chest at any given moment, praising horses and cats and the sky and his empty wine. But his EQ, his emotional intelligence, they could measure. It was right around zero. I befriended him because I had to, I couldn’t stand seeing him alienate everyone he knew. We worked long and hard until he was finally able to somewhat get along with ‘normies’. The problem was, he had a pretty high sex drive but couldn’t fulfill his desires as he bored most women and scared the others.The one he scared the most was Tricia McMillan-Bradbury. She left Harvard before I ever got to meet her, but she was the one Ray wanted to turn back the hands of time for so he could get another chance. I had only seen one picture of her, but she was undoubtedly one of the best looking women I have ever seen. Our fields closely paralleled one another; she was a bio-science specialist and I studied the DNA arts.Ray was actually right, though. Was there a better reason to go back in time than true love? Yeah, yeah, it would be good for mankind to also go back and kill Hitler as a baby, Stalin, too. And I.
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