Cropdusting Hipsters

It all started when I farted in yoga. It happened once, twice, three times a lady flatulist. Not many girls own up to a fart, so at first I pretended that the pop was simply a wayward hip joint being wrenched from its socket like a newly-weaned, puppy farm kelpie. It kept happening though: every class I'd cropdust … Continue reading Cropdusting Hipsters

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A Post About a Threesome…

Ha! I've busted you, you perverted little sausage. This isn't a story about a threesome at all. I've told a lie in a blatant ploy for attention that stops just shy of 'tawdry' by my omission of the word "lesbian". My salacious title is just pandering to the voyeur in all of us. It's my … Continue reading A Post About a Threesome…