An Advantage of Being an Old, Fat Broad with Grey Hair
Since Ken’s death I have been approached indirectly by a couple of what I call “Butt Sniffers” (because their behavior reminds me of a dog). These are men who seem to think I need a man. From my perspective they look like hapless fellows who would like to live in my house, have me cook, clean, and do laundry for them. In exchange for? I hate to think! Yesterday after swimming I was chatting with …
