file under: stuff your husband’s parents, 82-year old grandmother, and the rest of the Harvard Club’s Sunday morning diners probably didn’t expect to hear over eggs benedict

“Did you think it was bad when I said that I knew I looked like a whore in my short-shorts and boots? I explained that I was only exposing that much thigh because none of my pants fit me anymore.”

“Um, I think it was worse when you used the word ‘blowjob’ during brunch. But that’s just me.”

In my defense: they all knew what they were signing up for long before April.

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