I don't care what kind of a nice guy Mr. Belvadere was, or if he cooked for the Duchess of Yorkshire, and how proper and how good his advice was, letting your teenage daughter and two boys go upstairs to his fucking creepy little bedroom to talk is simply bad parenting.
Vitals:
35 Years old. 1971.
Taurus. Year of the Pig. Oink
Greying. Dyes, on occasion.
Blue/Green/Grey Eyes.
5'11. Okay, 5'10
215 pounds of boy
dad. married father.
love, big fan of/in
day: sr proj manager
night: pro wrestler (grr)
