So as part of the program of self-improvement, I found a driving school. All I need to do now is get my parent or guardian to sign paperwork, and I’m good to go.
I can just imagine this scene. Parents bring their kids to driving lessons while a middle-aged Clarissa is brought by her husband. I wonder if I can get him to pack my lunch and pat me on the head. It can be a sort of an erotic role-playing.
Who wants to bet that I will be the worst student this driving school has ever known? Imagine the plethora of fun blog posts, whoever.

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