Idle hands are the devil’s workshop, my darling.
It’s hard for me not to fuss sometimes about myself and the way I look. But sometimes he takes pictures of me and leaves them on my phone. And I have to stop and look at my body and all its bumps and curves and marks and think the whole thing is kind of a little more than the petty stuff.
“Blue, songs are like tattoos
You know I’ve been to sea before
Crown and anchor me
Oh let me sail away
Hey Blue, here is a song for you…”-Joni Mitchell
Holy lighting, Batman.
Craftsmate: I have something else for you to put in your mouth.
Craftsmate: *texts me a dickpic*
Me: Unf.
Me: Don’t laugh at me but that’s fabulous lighting.
This is absolutely what chicks do.
And what this chick is doing tonight.
So, okay, not quite. But, I’m getting together with a bunch of other ladies (who love ladies) to have a night to ourselves.
Oh, and knife girl is definitely going to be there. Remember her?
This is what chicks do when guys aren’t around isn’t it? Right? It is.