When Big Wis is trying to position herself comfortably in her sick bed, she describes it as “scrounging around.”
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This morning at the soccer game I was subbing out with another girl. We were talking a bit too loudly about how good the other team’s goalie looked in his short shorts. “Too bad he’s married,” I said, having seen him around.
“Actually, he’s married to me,” said a girl in cleats on the sidelines. Then she elbowed the hell out of me when I was defending her in the second half. Or maybe it was the other way around.
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I went to bed without dinner last night and before I fell asleep I had visions of eating chocolate chip mashed potatoes.
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I’ve been stalking the writer Stacey Richter on her website. I’ve been leaving her self-obsessed comments meant to show her how clever I am. I hope no one ever does that on my site. Please remember, people, this website is about ME. Unless your comment makes me sound smart, popular, or mentions my cleavage, I am probably going to erase it. Let’s try to get two million viewers tomorrow! I’ll start!
I’ll mention your cleavage, baby.