TMI redux

Today when Mr. Pistol came home from work, he asked me how I was doing. (How chivalrous!) “Fucking horrible,” I said. “My hormones hate me. God hates me. And my tits are carrying the weight of the world.”

Heh.

But seriously. Earlier I was walking in midtown and a businessman smiled right at them. That was a total first! Nobody has ever treated my breasts like an entirely separate entity before. (Too small. Until today!!!) I get how it must be annoying when you have a huge rack and every guy does that, but in my case, I dunno. It was sort of… touching.

Also, it meant one less person trying to look me in the fucking face.

by Pistol Whip | 25 July 2007 | pms | Comments