I feel like this crazy stripper informant. A spy, or something. I’ve been answering a lot of questions. I like questions. They just make me feel like an informant. It’s bizarre.
…Though, I would be a pretty kickass-looking spy in 7” chrome heels, smelling like cotton candy, cigarettes, rubbing alcohol, and beer.
Also, I surpassed 100 followers. In the Tumblr sense, that isn’t a whole lot, but in my book, over a hundred people thought my shit was worth reading at least once (and possibly to continue to read regularly).