Looking for work?”“Naw, got some. Loping stride.Heads turned, one swiveled.Heavenly Father, those blond curls, those shoulders!“Hey, young fellow! Gay porn Got to get me some of that.“Want to make a bit of money?”“What kind?”“A few quattrini.”“I repeat, fer what?”“Some work in my studio.”“Sweepin’ ’n’ that?”“No. He weren’t, ’cause I’m here. Looking for work?”“Naw, got some. So, what is it with you art-ists?“Uh…say, in case I run into you again, what’s your name?”Over his shoulder as he walked away came, “Same as Pa and Grandpa, David.”*When Michelangelo picked up his chisel, he thought, I’ll do him from memory except for a dinky little dick. Gonna be late.” He pointed toward an alley ahead.“How much do you make?”“Ain’t tellin’ you!” he spat.“I’ve got a deal for you.”“I’ll bet.”Desperate for a better look, the artist shifted weight nervously from foot to foot.“You ain’t no dancer. That show-off grabbed the whopping bundle between his legs and shook it.The artist shook. Now, you wanna know somebody with a cute tush, it was grandpa. Again.”Sounded put-out.“I remember you, too. Had to wear a skirt!
