I got my Frick Library card today! Woo hoo!
Go ahead. Say it: I'm one bad-ass Muter Fricker.
Afterwards (and a few drinks), some dude was staring at my legs, bound in the French-y toile velvet tights one likes to call 'the whole of Art history on [my] legs,' so I looked at him deadpan and he smiles as if he's onto something.
I did not like this.
"If you're thinking they can kick the shit out of you, you're right."
Someday I'm sooo getting my arse beat.
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Hmmm, Japanese... Hmmm... But Scandinavian? Nah.
I know, man, I know. Minus the eyes (granted), I'm a prototype - yet people too often seem puzzled.
"They already have."
That quote makes me a confusasaur.
Did I have another ninja blackout you've been sparing telling me about, knowing how badly I'd feel?
I want my legs to SAVE, to be used for GOOD.
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