I spent most of yesterday shopping with Cassie, stocking up on swishy cotton summer dresses and pastel lace panties.  I made sure they were short enough to bare a lot of leg and give the boys at least a hope of an upskirt peek when I bend over.  None of those hideous, ankle-length maxi dresses here, thanks.  Those things and the sour-faced matrons who push them should be shot on sight.  Yes, I said we should shoot dresses, what of it?

I know clothes might seem like an odd topic choice for my first journal in, uh, eons, but if you think that, you clearly don’t know me very well.  I’m a bit of a slut for strappy sundresses, mini-skirts and any shoe with a heel over 3 inches.  Yes, that makes me shallow, but it also makes me look pretty.  Maybe next time I’ll talk about one of the shattering Akhmatova poems my sweet B. sent me.  For now, you can just imagine me in a cherry blossom pink halter dress and seafoam green satiny wedges.  Wanna taste?

May 1st special: Buy a 15 min call and get 5 extra mins free!  You must ask for the special and sound yummy doing it.

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