Several times a month, I will be in a store aisle reaching for something and feel a hand going up the inside of my thigh. When I turn around to find myself alone with a woman, and ask her if she would prefer me to hold still so she can get a better feel for the situation, oftentimes she will act "shocked" claiming nothing had happened, it must be somebody else...
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The bastards took the dog park.
For whatever reason, I was a total creampuff today. I DID the workout, but I was struggling the whole time.
And it wasn't Monday's berserk workout, either, because I've felt fine since. I was just the lazy. But I did it anyway.
I am both enraged and amused at the non-existent footnote.
I'm making mine with salmon, asparagus, cream cheese, tomato juice, Knox Gelatine, and capers.
Yyyyeeeahhhh. And right now there's some precious little twat in Partially Examined Life or whatever it's called, trying to proclaim that because in HIS personal experience and intuition "bitch" is no longer primarily leveed against women, it wasn't a gender-based slur.
You may find yourself interesting online, but the results are less convincing on my side of the monitor.