She wasn't an impostor.She really was who she claimed to be.And now she's me.Pity I won't be there when she takes off my desert boots and sees thoseso...cks...Ruth's 'O' and 'A' level certificates, awarded when she was a pupil atHolbrook Girls' School in Chislehurst, Kent. An unused cheque book sentout by the Guildhall Square, Portsmouth branch of Martin's Bank, and aninterim statement showing an initial balance of ?1000 deposited yesterday.A Post Office savings account with funds totalling. It may be all right for me to know the outline and some s**ttered details, but he doesn't mean for you to tell me everything. I don't want to push you farther than you can go in good conscience."Darla was thoughtful for a moment or two saying nothing. Then she began slowly, "That's all very true, but although I may be Boss Bob's slut and mistress, I have no illusions about him. He is a Son of a Bitch of the first order, and the words, 'good conscience' shouldn't be spoken in the same breath. I had gotten use to the idea of another man having fucked my wife. She was thinking I was the greatest husband ever for letter her explore her wild side and I was benefiting from her new found honieness. She even insisted on anal sex one night which was awesome because I love her ass. Anyway, several weeks after her romp during our weekend getaway she had to go out of town for a couple night on business. In her job she travels about once or twice a month so this was nothing unusual. I noticed. He even sweeps the leaves out of my backyard every Fall, for $5.00. That was the last straw. It was time to teach my daughter a very hard lesson. "Come with me, young lady," I say as I grab her hand and lead her into the back alley.*It didn't take us long to find Ed. I could smell his foul stench from a block away. He was lighting up a cigarette, as we approached him. "Dammit lady, your daughter and her friends stole my cigarettes earlier. Then they ran away. Now I gotta smoke a damn menthol.".