Walking home along Smythe St just now, a block past the uber-IGA, the most fantastic smell filled my nostrils. It was simmery beef and wine and rich gravy. I think it was coming from Le Crocodile. A full city block I smelled the wonderful smell. And then it was gone and I smelled traffic once more.
I have angered the hearty she-males. The hearty she-males have been posting to my comments, telling me what a good girl I am and how they would like to share with me their naughty photos and she-male art. But I guess I deleted all their comments instead of allowing them to be posted and today I received comments like, “I laugh at your puny attempt at wit,” and “why don’t you post anything interesting?” Damn, she-males! It hurts me, you know? Not everyone can have the enormo-wit (or other significant parts which might or might not be enormous) of a hearty she-male!
I am she who will not be maled!
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