*blue balls not included.
Apparently in my non-conscious, still-unknown-sickness state (I’m sure there was probably some fish substance poisoning me in my dinner), I muttered the words: “And I wanted to have sex…” (while puking in the toilet).
Charmin, how you doin, you bad toilet paper roll, you! This is another reason he finds me sexy.
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This blog is about pursuit: a transplanted Clevelander (me) in a new city (that's you, Pittsburgh!), pursuing the role of a self-employed copywriter, becoming a roller derby badass and somehow merging all my to-do items into one ever-growing Bucket List.
And of MY boyfriend. His blue balls started this mess.
