A Woman’s Work is Never Done

Apparently we need jewelry that reminds us to exist now.
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And You Thought Lucky Rabbit’s Feet Were Bad

Oh my god, you guys. I can’t stop thinking about all those headless puppies.
Orating With Little or No Preparation
(via Laura)
Wicca-Wigitty-Wack
Actual thought I just had while watching the Mentalist:
“Oh, please. No moderately sane witch would cast a killing spell. It would come back on her double-whammy.”
It’s possible I’ve spent too much time in San Francisco.
I Do Not Lick Thee, Dr. Fell
Yesterday, once again, I found myself at the periodontist’s with a gas mask over my face. As you may recall, I don’t particularly enjoy laughing gas, as I am a control-oriented sort, but the alternative is usually less appealing in these instances.
I took a few deep breaths, and began to hear the telltale electric beat deep in my ears. The periodontist leaned in with his gloved hands, and they seemed absurdly big. I thought, “This is the only non-sexual scenario in which a man has ever had his fingers in my mouth.”
I laughed. Then I blushed. Then I became hyper aware of my tongue, and spent the next hour wracked with concern about accidentally doing something untoward. In conclusion, laughing gas is wasted on me.







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