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Lesbians pick their noses, too

Yesterday Shelli from New York (she who sent Leta her first cell phone) wrote to suggest a correction to my Festive Fecal Holiday post: “There’s no MAN in my bed… you said ‘he picks his nose.’ Unless, of course, you count the cats — but they’re now eunuchs, and don’t have opposable thumbs.” I can’t [...]

She was perfectly fine until we abandoned her in the lap of a strange man who smelled like the inside of a chimney