Charity shop of horrors
In recent years I have become increasingly fond of op shops. Often I’ll enter one not knowing what I’m even looking for, only that I have the urge to “rummage”.
Hoisting them puppies
I have big boobs. This is not me skiting, it’s simply a fact. I’d prefer that they were smaller, truth be told, but after years of wishing them other than they are I am now at peace with my buxom status.