raewescott
raewescott
raewescott

I have the end-all be-all of misogynistic horrible 80's romance novels. It's called Stormfire by Christine Monson. Rape, incest, forced slavery, miscarriages, love, fencing, fighting, intrigue. It's like an evil version of the Princess Bride disguised as a love story. Sadly no André the Giant. I love me some André.

sliding curtains?

Wow! I can be excited for once about being a US size 10. And if I'm reeeaaally lucky, my boobs will fit! Go Beth.

And now, you *can* use Barf in a Mercedes. It's a name not an action, Dot Matrix.

No no no! Didn't we just learn that all cookies are now designated as man bait only?

I'm going to start paying all my bills in cookies cause cookies are the currency of love and love makes the world turn round.

Wasn't this little women can't write eroticia debate settled in '54 with the 'Story of O' by Anne Desclos?

Is it sad I'm more offended by the awful choice of the overused zapfino script typeface than the book itself?

I tend to buy shoes when I'm upset.

I am unfortunately, at 28, the age when people start asking invasive questions about my life, my body and my relationship with my boyfriend of 7 years. "OMG you're not married yet? Don't you want kids?!!!" I tell people we're having a civil union. Gets a lot of WTF looks and head turns ::grins:: And while I want kids,

my love of glitter during the spice girls era knew no bounds.