It’s official. What I’ve been denying since the beginning of the year can no longer be overlooked. I’ve developed a lil pot belly. Soon I’ll look like those skinny, bulging gut kids on the postcards and people will start giving me money whenever they see me looking tattered by the pool. I must do something.
PS. I’m so fly…it’s open
I know
Love Miss Millie Jackson…she gave it to us straight with no chaser.
rtnt:
How Target Knows You’re Pregnant
Writing for The New York Times, Charles Duhigg examines how retailers collect...
Ha! Women Of Color Feminist…
“So we thought, instead of buying groceries here in Oak Park we could go buy groceries on the West Side. And it was not that simple at all.”