Apr 1, 2023
I've been waiting six weeks for this order to arrive - how hard can it be to ship magical stretchy yoga pants which give you a bubble butt an item of clothing to a small town in Maine?
seen from United Kingdom
seen from China
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seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Yemen
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Italy
seen from Australia
seen from Canada
seen from Yemen
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Japan
I've been waiting six weeks for this order to arrive - how hard can it be to ship magical stretchy yoga pants which give you a bubble butt an item of clothing to a small town in Maine?
open to females || some kind of secret affair, ya know || muse is dash
“what are you doing here?” dash grabbed her arm and hurriedly pulled her in before shutting the door behind her. she wasn’t supposed to be here but he couldn’t say he was that disappointed to see her. it had been nearly two weeks since they’d found time for each other. and he'd been pretty close to saying ‘fuck it’ and risking it all just to see her. apparently, she was feeling the same, and a lot ballsier than he would be. dash couldn’t deny that turned him on. “didn’t we say no house calls?” he asked, backing her against the wall and caging her in with his arms. he grinned down at her and shook his head. dash lived alone so they were hidden away from prying eyes behind closed doors but the same couldn’t be said about her journey over. “tell me no one saw you so that i can kiss you...” he murmured, leaning in towards her.
So anyone know what the hell all this weird graffiti on the sidewalks is? Been seeing it all over town. Doesn’t look like any language I recognize, and I recognize plenty. Heard some people saying it’s just kids messing around, but I dunno, doesn’t seem like that to me.
My job duties should not include ‘midday calls from clients when routine sex play goes wrong.’ I don’t know why I’m his emergency contact or why he didn’t realize he’s allergic to body paint, but here I sit in the emergency room on my damn day off, with a manchild covered in neon glow paint and a serious rash.
Fantastic.
“I wonder if the stupid Christians are finally going to apologise for copying and stealing Yule from us?”
You know, I know understand why pregnant ladies hate when strangers touch their stomach. I spent my morning in line to grab a coffee before my meetings, only to have some random dude come up and put his greasy paws all over me because he wanted to see my tattoos. My motto to strangers is look but don’t touch, as far as I know, those hands couldn’t been jerking off to me the night before. So, I stuck my heel right into his cheap ass shoes and let him know without saying anything, don’t touch. That’s how my Monday is going. I may be a porn star, but even I draw a line when it comes to personal space with creepy ass strangers.
I had my first day off in about two weeks today and I still woke up at 7am, my body clock just isn’t used to that glorious dream action you can get when you sleep past noon. I know that grocery shopping isn’t exactly my forte, but it’s a pretty fun task when you roam around the farmer’s market. I think this may be the most productive Thrusday I’ve had in ages. Even though I still really don’t have any idea what half of the stuff was that I bought today. I mean, I’m sure that Rachel will know, but what are you supposed to do with kale anyway?
RED ALERT. CODE BLACK. ALL OF THE PANIC BUTTONS. My mom is trying to set me up on dates, so if anyone is contacted by a cute blonde guy with my face on Tinder, you’re totally being catfished and if any Slytherin’s come a knocking, I am fully certified from the over 21′s Nerf League to use my crossbow, so ladies— I’m a force to be reckoned with.
P.S. Mom, if you see this, I’d like some banana bread delivered please.