Tagged with ice cream

I’m not pregnant.  I’m just fat.

I’m not pregnant. I’m just fat.

I cackled like a lunatic in the company cafeteria.  It was common of me whenever I dined with the ever so fabulous Ken.  As he told me the latest calamity he used theatrical nuances, and tousled small bits of frosted war hawk with manicured, polished fingertips.  He tried to keep it as masculine as possible, in … Continue reading



Bow chicka wow ow! Two to three times a year my job gets so overwhelming that I have no choice but to work on the weekend – A top ten Anna no no. Here is what proSEXtination used to look like: By Friday, I would stock up red wine and drink half of it.  Before my … Continue reading