You May Cause Chair Broken & Injure Yourself.

I feels ya, Deb, because I like staying in my dirty pink robe all day long and I am not sorry, except for my husband, and anyone else with eyes. But the years see what the days will never know and today someone called me a "deal junkie" but at least I seem to be cured of my hypergraphia [citation needed], for now. But maybe its because my tits are constantly being summoned and I don't mean that in a cheap way, like Heineken's retrograde trivilization of the essence of femininity in their spot portraying the girl android's uterus as a fucking keg. But this is not a fatwah on behalf of girl androids because, until women's body parts stop selling fine, fine products, we are all guilty. So let's divert from the path marked on our fathers' maps and be good to each other and rejoice on the anniversary of our sealing of a social contract and fuck all the time and huddle close on the beach floor beneath the milky moonlight. But let's not celebrate valentine's day.