That mortals never know...
So, for all of you wondering what exactly I'm going to do about my hastily disclosed "delicate condition"--go fuck yourselves. All will become apparent, and the mysteries of the world will slowly reveal themselves. Like strippers, but without the jungle music.
Feeling a little bit better about the whole thing though. I've decided it doesn't quite mean I'm a whore, and it doesn't quite mean I'm a moron--just a watered-down hybrid of the two that I can live with. Maybe this will teach me to overcome my distaste for the spontinaity-spoiling creature we call The Condom. Maybe not. Maybe I'll just get my tubes tied when the whole debaucle's over and consider myself menopaused. Either way, it has finally sunk in that the issue is both real and not the end of the world. My life, such as it is, will go on. And maybe, just maybe, my breasts will stay this big.
Fat chance, I know. But a girl can dream.
Feeling a little bit better about the whole thing though. I've decided it doesn't quite mean I'm a whore, and it doesn't quite mean I'm a moron--just a watered-down hybrid of the two that I can live with. Maybe this will teach me to overcome my distaste for the spontinaity-spoiling creature we call The Condom. Maybe not. Maybe I'll just get my tubes tied when the whole debaucle's over and consider myself menopaused. Either way, it has finally sunk in that the issue is both real and not the end of the world. My life, such as it is, will go on. And maybe, just maybe, my breasts will stay this big.
Fat chance, I know. But a girl can dream.