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   Chapter 22 Cultural Inculcations

If the duke desires By Hathor Rao Characters: 5022

Updated: 2018-01-24 18:08

'What kind of name is Common Sense?'

I wonder studying the Cd she's stacking into her collection. Her apartment is very interesting, a studio styled sort of thing with artsy things hang on the walls and ghastly colourful things all over. She doesn't have chairs, just mats and bean seats

'are you talking to me about names? Your wrappers have whack names; Dizzy Rascal!' she says taking the Cd from me and walking to an orange ball which she opens and sticks the Cd into a stereo kind of thing, drums and the piano filling the air as she bobs her head and stretches her hands from one side to the other

'and on the count of three everybody ran back to their fantasy.' She announces with Mr Sense as he starts to rap she raps along. I smile and study her; she ought to do this when we bump into my parents!! Was he rapping about sex?? This is sensational!

'You should take this Cd with you.' She says 'listen to a song called it's your world.' She instructs. 'What else?' I probe looking at her Cd collection, which is in a purple tree like thing that's snaking up against the wall

'John Legend.' She says tip toeing to reach for something 'and Kanye West.' She adds walking to another section and removing four Cds 'Oveous Maximus.' She chirps skipping to the beat as she frolics around her apartment getting me hip hop music I have to listen to 'Robin Thicke.' She coos 'please let me testify!' she sings out 'Jason M'raz' she says and before I know it I have a pile of Cds in my hand 'but t

onto sweet constraint with all I have, my loins stirred to a perfection and ready for serving as the entree. She pulls back with a dreamy sigh

'okay; you can keep them one more week.' She decides huskily

'I'm replacing them.' I gruffly announce showing her the Cd in my hand. She chuckles in disbelief

'so you like our music!' she decides clapping her hands in glee 'it's wicked.' Leigh says showing her the T. I. Cd in his hand. We all decided to fill our Cd collections with hip hop and see how our dear parents go about it, all in the name of our aspirations, though her boyfriend common sense had much sense to say about aspirations. She's got me thinking about what I'm going to leave in the untimely event of my death; me, Herve McClure, not the next duke of Angelford, just me. I smile at her; isn't that going to be my job as an actuary? Am I not meant to appraise hazards and pecuniary securities in the occurrence of undesirable events? It's like being my own actuary I suppose...

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