*blue balls not included.
The holiday guide to handling your Easter Eggs with care. Adding yet another sexually-perverted euphemism to my catalog, I will never look at Easter Egg Hunts ever the same.
Maybe they should be.
How many times do I need to remind you that the balls need lovin’ too?
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.
