I'm walking in AIDS Walk again this year for my 4th year in a row. I've raised close to $7000 for local HIV and AIDS services over the last four years via AIDS Walk San Diego, but they can always use more.
The event is on September 28th and I hope you'll reach down in your pocket and pluck out a buck or ten or twenty or whatever you can afford. Any donation is welcome. It would mean a lot. Thank you!
So, here we are… 2008. I feel like I should have all these profound things to say about starting a New Year and hope and resolution and dreams and all that, but really, I’m just wishing the kettle would whistle because mama needs a cuppa.
I remember when I was a kid I would daydream about the year 2000 and how old I would be and the husband, dog and mid-range sedan I would (not) have, but while I was still 26 in the year 2000, I didn’t really plan beyond that. None of my fantasies said, “In the year 2008, you’ll be 34 in your bathrobe, foisting your thoughts on people all over the world via this thing called the Internet”. Though, I did think that perhaps by 2008 I’d have some kind of flying car or magic Jetson’s dishwasher or something. What gives, Science?!
My New Year’s Eve was pretty mellow. I spent the afternoon working on some personal design stuff, listening to music and chatting with this guy. Then later on, I made some mushroom cavatappi, watched Ocean’s 13, then ran outside at midnight to get some shots of the fireworks over the bay. Of course, I didn’t have a tripod, so out of 100 shots only 6 came out, but I guess that’s the nature of the beast.
I guess it’s time for the requisite resolutions portion of the post-New Year’s post. Having had my fill of resolutions gone bust, I do better with goals. It’s all semantics really, but resolutions are just made to fade away around the 2nd week of February, amidst wrinkled weight-loss flyers and dusty Thighmasters. Valentine’s Day desserts have a way of derailing even the best of intentions. I’ve never met a tiramisu I didn’t like. Ok, yes, I have, but do you really expect quality tiramisu from a place called Vito’s? I don’t think so…
My goals, in a tidy nutshell:
Set rules, boundaries and limitations
Thank you, Cesar Milan. For the first five years of our business, I’ve pretty much let my work dictate my life. I love my clients and pride myself on going the extra mile, but all those extra miles have put me a little off-course in my life outside of work. I’ve forgotten how to relax, what my friends look like or what the meaning of “weekend” is. That’s going to change.
Get in better shape
No, not lose weight – get in shape, though I suppose that will be a side effect. I’m starting to snap, crackle and pop and I’m too young to sound like Rice Krispies.
Sing more
I’m hoping to rent a piano this year so I can get back into my music. I haven’t played in a while and my theory is shameful, but I miss playing and need an alternate creative outlet. Perhaps I’ll even record something, even if it’s kind of lo-fi.
Travel, travel, travel
I’ve not seen most of the people I miss most in far too long, so I’m due a trip to Dallas, Los Angeles, Florida, England and maybe even New York City, not to mention the travel we’ll be doing for work (SXSW in Austin) and anywhere else this year takes us.
Yoga
In 2007, I basically stopped doing yoga. I’m not sure why… I think it goes back to my first goal of “setting boundaries”. I just felt like there wasn’t any time or moreso, that I didn’t deserve that time to myself to do something that helps me stay sane and handle stressful situations easier. That sounds so ridiculous when I type it out. It’s really a benefit to everyone when I’m not wound up tighter than Ann Coulter. I’ve been thinking about taking a Qigong class, too...
Try more new things
I’m going to attempt to try one new thing a month. There are all these things I keep saying I want to do: take a bartending course, take a photography class, try that wine and cheese place across town, take a knife course at a cooking school… the list goes on and on.
That’s about it. Nothing too crazy. I don’t want to jump out of a plane or get a tattoo or trip acid at Burning Man or sleep with a musician. Wait, I take that last one back.
It’s my last official day of my “vacation”, which will be spent relaxing, cleaning and getting my ducks in a row for tomorrow’s swan dive into a vat of email. We spent a lot of time over our holiday break working on the new sites we’re launching during the first quarter, in celebration of our 5-year anniversary. So stay tuned for those!
I hope everyone had a wonderful New Year’s holiday. Did you make any resolutions or set goals for yourself? Do tell…
Well, we booked our flights to SXSW Interactive this morning. Here we come, Texas! I’m so excited! Yippee! Wait… that should be “Yee haw!”.
This is the first time that Kathy and I have been able to attend one of these conferences together, so we’re looking forward to hanging out together (always a good time), meeting everyone and getting our cocktail on. And, of course… learning stuff. There are panels, after all.
At first I was bummed that our panel wasn’t chosen this year, but they get so many requests and it’s not like we’ve not done it before. So, whatever! Maybe next year. In the meantime, we’ve got passes, we’ve got plane tickets and we’ll be there with bells on. Or books on, as the case may be. We are in the process of working out a signing at the SXSW Bookstore, so if you’ll be there, say hi!
Or if you see a blonde and a brunette with pink laptop bags strutting around with that “I just had a Bloody Mary” face, that would be us.
In other news, ChickChat Radio contacted us for an interview on January 9th at 7:30pm EST and we’re really looking forward to it. Now that we’ve been “radio de-flowered”, we’re looking forward to more interviews coming our way. Plus, the chicks at ChickChat, Lara and Heidi, have been our clients for quite a while and they’re really nice, so it will be great to chat with them in a different capacity. ChickChat Radio is available via podcast or on XM Satellite Radio Channel 155.
And with that, I’m off to answer emails. *scurries*
Joelle said in the early morning on January 4, 2008
I’ve been getting to know my neighbors a bit here and there. The English Couple from across the street invited GFI and I over for a drink during the holidays, which we’ve not had a chance to do yet, but I think we will soon. They’re really a nice older couple and I’m dying to see their backyard (what I can see of it looks pretty sweet).
I know the guy upstairs next to GFI in Furley’s old apartment. We call him Slick. Then there’s The Lawyer next to him. Downstairs from him is Granola Guy and between the two of us lives a really cool nurse. I have no name for her other than her first name, so for the purposes of this blog, we’ll just call her Nurse New York. In the building next to us is Crazy Pajama Bird Man. He’s got parrots, a poor relationship with his baby mama and can often be found outside in too-big socks and ratty pajama bottoms using a cherry-picker to trim the trees. And finally, also in the building next door, we have The Patio Lesbians. Man, those women sure love their patio.
I figured I’d gotten to know enough of the characters for a while, but that was before the man next door to The English Couple got a Harley for Christmas.
Let me just say that I have no real problem with motorcycles in general. I also have no problem with occasional disturbances of the peace — these things happen. But for the love of god, if you’re going to go somewhere, then freaking go.
A few days after Christmas, I heard a motorcycle start up across the street. It revved a few times, like one does when warming up a vehicle and then I full anticipated that I would hear it speed down the block. But, instead, it puttered and puttered and idled and puttered and idled and sputtered and OMG WOULD YOU SHUT THAT DAMN THING OFF!!?!? After a bit, I was able to tune it out and keep doing what I was doing and almost forgot about it.
I noticed later on that I was getting a headache. I decided to lie down on the couch and watch TV for a bit, but I couldn’t hear the TV without cranking it up, which wasn’t helpful. Hours later, this man was still idling his motorcycle in the driveway. Now, I don’t do well with constant low-grade hums or rings or tones, they drive me insane and give me headaches. Some people can successfully tune them out, but I often get a physical reaction. This wasn’t quite “low-grade”, but that incessant sputtering and revving was driving me absolutely mad and not helping my headache.
I decided I’d had enough. For chrissake, it was a beautiful, quiet peaceful Thursday morning during a holiday week. This isn’t a weekday when people are at work (though, I’d have words for him then, too). I ran out to the curb in my tropical pajama pants, sweatshirt and slippers and politely called across the street, “Excuse me! Sir? Do you think you could turn that off for a sec?”
Of course, all I got was “WHAT?” My point exactly, jerk. So I made a few gestures and eventually, he walked over to the edge of his curb so that we’re hollering across the street to each other over the din of his bike. I called out again, “Sir, are you planning on going anywhere?”
Now, I should tell you — this was no Hell’s Angel or thug (though I’ve know a couple really sweet Hell’s Angels). I live in a nice area (I lucked out), so this guy was more like someone’s golf buddy than a biker dude. He had on pressed jeans, super white sneakers, a polo shirt and a visor… like he was going to play tennis followed by a Manhattan at the country club. His “hog”, while a Harley, was one of those big white luxury deals with the wide-load storage boxes on the sides, room for 4 and lots of bling. It was like Harley Davidson, The Eddie Bauer Edition. If bikes were Business Class, that was this man’s motorcycle.
“Um, I bike,” calls the man, giving me that, “Whatever, lady” look. Great, you “bike”. Correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t people who “bike” say “I ride”? You bike? Good for you, dude. Get a Schwinn.
As I don’t want angry neighbors, I say really sweetly, “I can see that, but are you going anywhere anytime soon? Your bike has been idling for several hours and while I understand that you need to run it sometimes, it’s starting to become a little bothersome. If you’re not going anywhere imminently, would you please shut it off while it’s sitting in the driveway?”
He looked at me, rolled his eyes, then dismissed me with a wave of his hand… like a “shoo”, turned his back and walked back to his bike. Exasperated, I stomped back in the house, and he proceeded to leave it running for another seven minutes.
I thought maybe he was doing some kind of maintenance or repair work on the bike, but when he shooed me, that’s when I noticed that this tool had a chamois in his hand. A chamois! No toolbox, no grease under his nails, no wrenches… a chamois. This wanker was sitting in his driveway, revving his engine and buffing his Harley. For hours.
Sir, no amount of revving or buffing will make your penis bigger. SHUT IT OFF.
Eventually, it was shut off. He put the cover back on it and it still sits in his driveway. I thought I heard him leaving the other day, but it was just Slick and his Ducati taking off down the street. At least he has the decency to not rev his penis in the front yard. Well… I hope, anyway.
Joelle said around mid-afternoon on January 7, 2008
Behold… the Weekend Warrior, who apparently keeps his head in the back of those saggy jeans because he just spent the last 15 minutes revving and idling in his driveway for no reason other than to stand back and admire it.
I’ve decided I don’t like this man. May the fliers of a 1000 penis pumps grace your mailbox, sir.
I mentioned one of my goals for this year is to have more boundaries between my work life and my life life. Well, I’m doing a pretty decent job so far and making lists and setting up calendars is really helping with that. When you work for yourself and you don’t have a staff, you have to plan out your life almost 6 months in advance. At least, I do. It kind of cramps any spontaneity, but spontaneity doesn’t pay my cable bill.
My friend Mel told me that she started scheduling everything a while back and it really helped her. Since I don’t think I’m nearly as organized as she seems to be, I was skeptical that it would work for me. I felt so overwhelmed, I didn’t feel like something as simple as making a list or adhering to office hours would help. I’m pleased to report that so far, scheduling is working out well and even though it’s only the first couple weeks, I’m hopeful.
I had to start out slow or it wouldn’t take. I knew back in the Fall that I wanted a new way of life and a new way of working in 2008, so I started out by implementing Basecamp to manage my projects. Then, I implemented a “daytime, nighttime, anytime, clients pay me on time” invoicing service… by Freshbooks, of course. These two things, coupled with Google Calendar and Gmail have made life easier, that’s for sure.
Now I just recite my office hours as a daily mantra while I work furiously throughout the day. I think giving myself more structure will allow me to ultimately have more freedom.
Have you started organizing your life somehow? Any tips… work related or otherwise?
Joelle said in the late morning on January 9, 2008
Yet another glimpse into a work day…
Joelle: So, have you ever caught yourself doing like some weird dance and then thought, “what the hell?” and looked around like someone was watching you?
Joelle: I was just totally doing a funky dance at my desk
Kathy: I did one earlier when i got out of the shower lol
Joelle: was it like a funky chicken or like a roger rabbit? cabbage patch? hustle? or just your own interpretive dance?
Kathy: it was kind of a version of a roger rabbit but with less oomph
Joelle: lol! mine was kind of a combo of the Snake and that 70’s dance where they look like they’re hitchiking. Kind of like a hand-jive, I guess.
Kathy: I was just doing the chair bounce as we speak
Joelle: sometimes it’s just the neck
Joelle: *neck*
Kathy: HAHAHAHHA *neck*
Kathy: speaking of… i need some actual music to do this to
Joelle: wait, you had no music?!
Kathy: no hahahaha
Joelle: truly the beat of your own drum, sister. *neck*
So, it’s possible you’re thinking we’re a little weird or just found out you’re not alone. Surely we’re not the only ones who’ve done this. So… what’s your “move”?
Just a reminder if anyone is interested, we’ll be talking to the girls of ChickChat Radio, Heidi and Lara, tonight on XM Channel 155 (Take Five) at 8:05pm EST / 5:05pm PST about our book The IT Girls Guide to Blogging with Moxie. If you don’t have XM, you can hear this and all the rest of their shows via podcast.
Joelle said around mid-morning on January 10, 2008
I’ve got to go by a client’s place today and introduce him to WordPress (mmm mmm!) and I’ve made an executive decision: I’m stopping afterward to buy myself a new office chair. This chair I’m sitting in is an assault on the human body, specifically my lower back. I bought it in a pinch, thinking I would get one of those ergonomic jobs that I’ve seen at Office Depot. I’ve been waiting for it to go on sale, but every time it does, I miss it. I’ve been riding this $40 mesh donkey from Target at least 10 hours a day for a year now and I think it’s time to put it out of it’s misery. It wasn’t built for web designer wear n’ tear. Come hell or high water, I’m treating myself to a new chair, sale or not!
Speaking of assets (Men, feel free to check out here), Ms. Pants and I were chatting this morning about Spanx. I mentioned to her that Target carries Spanx, but they’re called Assets and are $10 less. She told me I won her “Baby Daddy Award” for the day, so I have to assume she’s pleased. So, just a lil’ PSA: if you’re a Spanx die-hard, you probably already know, but if you didn’t and are looking to save a buck on your Spanx foundation garments — Spanx = Assets by Sara Blakely. Sold at Target! It’s not like they carry all the novelty things that Spanx offers, like the fishnets or the reversible tights, but for your garden-variety foundation stuff in black or nude… get Assets. Same same.
I popped into YouTube at random today and saw this in the “recently viewed” area. Based solely on the thumbnail and the title and knowing nothing of FrankBell, I was expecting something ridiculous. I waited for the suckage and the suckage never revealed itself. I’d have to hear more to say for sure, but I rather enjoyed that. What do you think?
Last night, GFI, Modigli and I went for drinks our fave neighborhood cocktail bar — I won’t name it lest some employee does a Google search and I end up with spit in my martini.
To say I love this place is putting it mildly. It’s just my speed… inside it’s very “70’s cocktail bar meets modern lounge” complete with natural and wood wall coverings, amber glass here and there and some really cool giant 70’s-looking light fixtures. Their food is delicious. I’d only ever tried their garlic aoli pomme frites (fancy name for French fries), but last night we had the cheese platter with Stillson, brie, fresh honeycomb and some funky little raisins. Good stuff.
Anyway, the bartender has this pair of pants that he wears every time we go. I can’t tell if it’s a uniform, if it’s just coincidence or if he really, really loves those pants. No one else seems to be wearing a uniform, other than maybe the hostess, who is usually in all black. He’s got a hipster thing going for him...he’s got a definite style. And while I’m not really all that partial to men in skinny pants, these are pretty cool pants. Black and white hounds tooth, I think? Or perhaps they were just checked — the print was small and it was dim lighting. I just find it funny that he’s sporting them every time we go in there and if it were a uniform, wouldn’t someone else have the same pants on? I have another hipster-y friend who also wears a specific pair of pants very frequently. I’m beginning to think hipsters only have one pair of pants.
But, Repeat Pants or not, I like our bartender. He is sometimes a bit slow and GFI isn’t wild about his martinis, but I have faith! Out of the roughly 8 martinis I’ve had from him since we’ve been going there, about five have been alright, two have been awesome and one was like drinking Sea Monkeys. He got a little crazy with the “dirty” part of a dirty martini.
I think GFI is throwing in the towel and switching to Cosmos, but like I said, I have faith. He seems like a nice guy and he’s starting to remember us, so someday, I fully anticipate he’ll know exactly what and how I’ll order when I come in the door. It would also be nice to be greeted with “NORM!” but I won’t push it.
Moral of the story: Make friends with your bartender. Even if he’s only got one pair of pants.
Hey there! We did that interview on Wednesday evening with ChickChat Radio and I just listened to the podcast. I cropped out our little snippet for our press files and thought you might like a listen. Oh, and we mention a whole smattering of y’all, so keep listening. Oh, and note my Carefree Socialite Laugh I throw around 11:47. I’m not sure what that was about.
Joelle said in the late morning on January 13, 2008
If you’ve been reading this blog for any length of time, you’d know that Judy, my ‘95 Chevy Cavalier, has always given me a bit of trouble. From replacing the starter twice in Dallas and again just recently, to having my steering column catch fire and then recalled and repaired, to my rear-view mirror falling off when the weather turned Africa Hot and dangling from the windshield while I drove. Two months after I got the car, it was sideswiped in my friend’s driveway and the dents live there still. Three months after moving to Texas, a garbage truck took off the driver’s side mirror and I only replaced it 4 years ago when a junkyard happened to have one lying around. The trunk light doesn’t work, there’s rain damage in the back, the driver’s side window lost it’s seal from several encounters with a Slim Jim, the seats are falling apart, I’ve replaced the brakes and tires more times than I can count and the alignment… well, that word doesn’t mean anything to Judy. Judy hung to the left.
But still… through all that, Judy held up. I got her gently used in 1998 after I drove my (just paid off) Geo Metro under a ‘78 Chevy van at 35mph. I didn’t choose Judy… she was assigned to me. At that time in my life… 24 years old, my credit wasn’t great, my income wasn’t either and the only car I could get was Judy, so I overpaid for her and vowed that once she was paid off, I would never buy another car until the engine fell out and I had to power her with my feet, like the Flintstones.
Well, she was paid off in 2003 and yesterday, the engine almost literally fell out the bottom of the car. In fact, the mechanic told me that if I had gotten on the freeway, as I was intending to when my car stopped accelerating, he said that it could have dropped out and potentially killed me. So… good thing I didn’t get on the freeway.
On my way to IKEA yesterday morning, I noticed her knocking a bit, but she’s been making weird sounds for a while, so I wasn’t too worried. But when I left IKEA, she was really knocking a lot. As I was making a left-hand turn to get on the freeway, she just wouldn’t go. She’d putter a bit forward, then just coast. I finally got her to give me a enough juice to make an illegal U-turn, then I revved and coasted for about a mile and a half with my mechanic on the phone the whole time. As I coasted into his driveway, he looked at me through the windshield and shook his head, solemnly. This wasn’t good.
When we turned on the car (after we were able to get it started again) and opened the hood, i was shocked to see the engine banging all around in there. He said that whoever my mechanic was before did some kind of hack work on the engine block and it’s not been secure. He said that even if he repaired it, he couldn’t say for sure how long the car would last. He also said that it would be at least $1600, but that if he got into the engine and it needed replacing, it would be a lot more. In his words, “I hate to say it, sweetheart, but I think she’s a goner.”
He let me park it on the side of his lot and I called GFI to come get me. We hit Shakespeare’s Pub where I knocked back a Guinness and a fish taco and tried to sort things out. I’m sad to lose Judy… we’ve been through so much together, but I also think this was timely. My insurance had just ended, I was due to make a costly repair on the car so it would pass the smog check, then I would have had to reinsure it, re-register it and then what? It would have died anyway, most likely.
I panicked at first, not so much because I don’t have a car right now, but I was concerned that all the money I’d saved for the travel I want to do would be eaten up by a down payment and subsequent costs. I really don’t care to be pressured into purchasing a car simply due to circumstance and I’m not sure what I’d like yet or if I even want to strap myself to a car payment straight away. I don’t know what I want yet, so I’m just going to take a bit of time to figure things out.
I’m fortunate enough to work from home, this is a beautiful city and I do have two feet, a trolley, a bus system, FlexCar and I could always get a bike. I know mikey would loan me his car if I need to get groceries, so instead of freaking out like I would normally do I’m just trying to think of all the reasons why this was a good thing.
Like I said, I’m sad to lose Judy, but she had a long life… much longer than most Cavaliers, I think. She had close to 150,000 miles on her and had driven me across this country more than once. She was a trooper… and will be carted off by Ecology Auto Wrecking tomorrow afternoon. I keep picturing her atop a floating, flaming barge, like a Viking.
Adios, Judy. May your parts be sold to nice people and the rest of you cubed neatly for recycling.
I’ve written before about Booty Parlor and how much I love them. Kathy and I have been big fans of theirs *cough* since they opened and tell just about everyone about them. We love them so much, we’re in cahoots with them about some upcoming stuff for The Moxie Girls. They’re courteous, their products are great and while you can get some of the items for less elsewhere, the nice-ities that Booty Parlor offers makes it feel like you’re shopping at Victoria’s Secret, not at Bob’s House o’ Lube or whatever. Plus, they include batteries *cough cough* and throw in lots of freebies and wrap it all up like lingerie. In a nutshell, they’re the cat’s pajamas.
Now, most “massagers” (I can’t say that without laughing, I’m sorry… haha!) are fairly self-explanatory. You can determine it’s purpose just by looking at it, but yesterday, Kathy and I spent a good five minutes after our morning meeting yesterday staring at this:
Behold… The Cone. It sounds very ominous. It looks very ominous! Dana, the owner and woman in the video (who is super nice, by the way) claims you can “sit on it, straddle it or stick it to the wall”. The makers of this futuristic vibe (I believe Booty Parlor just distributes it, it’s not their own creation) claim that it’s “like sculpture”, but I think it looks more like something you’d find in the Method Home section of Target… like it should be filled with dish soap or something. It definitely doesn’t look like anything I want near anything important. I think the biggest oddity about it for me is the sheer size. It’s bigger than her face in the video! It’s like a warhead.
It also has a bazillion different “functions”, all controlled by a few lights that you push on the front in various combinations. As Kathy said, “This looks… complicated.” Indeed! I don’t want to play Simon Says, I just want to get the job done, for pete’s sake. A girl has needs that don’t involve Morse code.
It also has an “orgasm” feature. Um… what? What are the other functions then? Certainly not “buy me dinner” or “empty the trash”.
Joelle said in the late morning on January 17, 2008
So, yesterday I’m sitting on the couch around lunch, having a snack and watching a little boob tube when I hear a sudden and unexpected chirping. “cheep! cheep!” — really quickly in succession, followed by a few second pause, then the chirping again. While I do have parrots in the building behind me, it sounded more like some kind of computer alert than a parakeet, and it was coming in the general direction of my computer, so I ran over to find out what it was. There were no alerts on either my desktop or my laptop, but I started hearing it again.
“cheep! cheep!”
I checked my tower, it wasn’t coming from there. I checked my monitor… not there either. I heard it again, this time fainter… then loud again. I turned off my computer speakers and it seemed to stop, for whatever reason. Just as I walked away from my desk, I heard it again… behind me!
My TV was starting to chirp. After systematically turning on and off each thing (DVR, DVD, TV, etc.) it seemed that again, turning off the speakers seemed to fix it. And again, as I stood there pondering what it could have been, I heard it again! This time from my laptop speakers.
“cheep! cheep!”
Where in the hell is this coming from? I wondered. Finally, I turned on all the speakers again, after hearing the chirping again like it was traveling around my house, within a few moments, the sound had faded away. The only explanation I could come up with is that I live right by the airport and there were some planes going overhead right around then. I considered it was possible that I picked up some kind of transmission in my wiring, causing output through my speakers. It seems weird, but not totally unheard of…
I didn’t hear it again for the rest of the night, but this morning, while in the bedroom making my bed, I heard it in the living room. I had all my windows and front door open, so it almost sounded like it was coming from outside. I ran in the other room to try to figure it out. I heard it by my TV, then in the kitchen, then finally… outside in the front yard.
Sometimes, due to this vent over the stove in my kitchen, sounds, like conversation in the driveway next door or cheers from the neighborhood during a football game, get amplified and sent down this pipe. When I first moved in, I couldn’t figure out where a man’s voice was coming from, then discovered the vent in the kitchen. You can see why the Weekend Warrior is extra annoying.
Flinging open my screen door, I spotted a mockingbird up on a branch outside my window… a pair of them, doing some kind of mating thing. And one of them was making a sound very similar, “cheep! cheep!” I think I found my culprit. It doesn’t quite explain why it seemed to be actually in my house, but the way this apartment is laid out, sound does weird things. In my kitchen, you can’t hear a damn thing going on in the living room, but if you’re in the living room, you can hear everything in the kitchen as if it were happening in your lap, so maybe it was just one of those freak occurrences.
I hope those mockingbirds get it on soon, though. I seriously thought I was losing my mind.
Nothing too crazy. I don’t want to jump out of a plane or get a tattoo or trip acid at Burning Man or sleep with a musician. Wait, I take that last one back.
*scurries*
So… what’s your “move”?
The makers of this futuristic vibe (I believe Booty Parlor just distributes it, it’s not their own creation) claim that it’s “like sculpture”, but I think it looks more like something you’d find in the Method Home section of Target… like it should be filled with dish soap or something. It definitely doesn’t look like anything I want near anything important. I think the biggest oddity about it for me is the sheer size. It’s bigger than her face in the video! It’s like a warhead.
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