I put on eyeliner and the good bra. I got there at 11:20, looked down, realized all I can see is the tits. Lifted them out of the way and saw I had something on my shirt. Went to the bathroom and got as much as I could off.
Came back out. Nobody.
11:30–I see the Professor walking by. I call her and harass her. “I can’t see you,” she says. I feel like a stalker, a very lame stalker.
11:40–I call the person I’m supposed to meet with.
Yep, the meeting is at 12:15.
And that, my friends, is an hour of my life I’ll never get back.
Peg, you made me laugh so hard that I’m making you queen of all blogdom for the day.
Yea, but they shall know thee by thy boob-freckle.
So saith the Lord.
Wow, that was weird. I posted after you, but snuck in before you.
I didn’t find it lame – I found it rather disturbing. And, considering the height you had on me, I fear that you are secretly finished with those gun lessons and have become a sniper taking aim at 21st Ave passers-by.