If Love Languages Were Categories in a Dystopian YA Novel
I blinked in the winter sun and spotted the raised flag that bore the crest of Quality Time. Under the flag huddled members of my new life.
I blinked in the winter sun and spotted the raised flag that bore the crest of Quality Time. Under the flag huddled members of my new life.
Seth has returned to his car and confirmed your address for the first time. Your dumplings are no longer crispy or hot. Seth lives with his parents.
Meeting with Kermit, a 65 y.o. frog, and Piggy, a 63 y.o. porcine companion (spouse?). Currently separated. P lives in Paris, France; K in MS swamp.
I have noted my standards and policies. These are negotiable due to the extremely low bar I have set due to previous experiences with straight men.
He might be stuck inside but this fella is still capable of making dozens of women uncomfortable, from the comfort of his own home!
Don’t just stand there, staring at me. You’ve never asked for my consent. I don’t want to be three inches from your swollen uvula.
Knitting With Dog Hair: The three sets of socks will keep Jonathan's feet warm when he is cold and his mouth shut when he is snoring.
While you were once regaled with the chimes of wedding bells, you now shrivel before a vinegary antipasto and await the crushing gavel of defeat.
A millennium of mystics lives in my heart. But when you look at me, all you see is “Prince of Darkness” in Comic Sans stretched just under my chin.
One of your boyfriend’s friends bullies you, does your boyfriend… a) ...stand up for me! b) ...not do anything for sexy and mysterious reasons.
I'm a sex-positive ursidae in touch with my body and on fire with sexual empowerment. If you've seen a picture of me, I'm not even wearing pants.
In an instant a few things happened: we locked eyes and both looked away in embarrassment; and I realized it was me.