Category Archives: robes

Touch Me, Don’t Touch Me

Here’s the thing about massages—they feel so good, yet they’re a complete and total mindfuck for me. A spa is like one, big aphrodisiac. It’s as if they’re sliding a tray of oysters down your throat the moment you walk … Continue reading

Posted in confessions, day-to-day, disgust, idiosyncracies, nudity, pet peeves, robes | 1 Comment

I ❤️ Robes

The belt to my favorite robe never came back from the wash. It must be with the socks that are sucked into the Maytag Bermuda Triangle. I need that belt. I don’t want to catch even a mini-glimpse of myself … Continue reading

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