My grandmother, like many grandmothers, wore a mink coat. Although I have always been anti-fur, I never begrudged her for it. When I was really young, I secretly liked petting the coat, even though it made me incredibly sad to think that hapless animals were killed so my grandmother could feel fancy.
Whenever I see older women wearing fur coats, even now, decades later, I think, okay, that’s disgusting, but they’re ignorant, they just don’t know better.
However, when I see a woman around my age or younger wearing fur, I think, “Damn it, you’re young enough to know better.”
I hope I know my Jodsey. The suspense is KILLING me!
Arkansas TWICE in one lifetime? Does your boyfriend have any idea how much you love him?
Three times (a lady), Mrs. Z. Maybe even four.
Oh, fried dill pickles. Let me bask in their crispy, slightly oily glory for a moment. Ah.
Those are not fried pickles. Tell me that they are not.
Indeed they are. Yes. They are.