In the “past”, I sell toilet paper. It’s a luxury item, my toilet paper (bought in bulk from supermarkets in the “present”, and sold minus...the packaging), and much sought after. It funds my plantation.Now my plantation runs at a loss (but my trade in toilet paper and antebellum memorabilia funds it easily), but it’s main purpose isn’t to grow cotton. I let others oversee that. My interest is in the human livestock. The women, the girls.It’s invigorating, more invigorating than any little. I'd just been to an estate sale and cleaned the place out of the brass. Got a good bit of other reloading stuff from it too," I said."Do you have rounds in any other caliber?" Carl asked, hopefully."Twenty-two. I had plenty of other's at home but not with me." Would you trade some of the twenty-two stuff? I have a rifle and a pistol in twenty-two," Carl said."Sure, I'd be glad to trade." How many do you have?" Carl asked, and he looked excited even though he was trying not to."Plenty." What. More

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