I grew up in the 1960s in small house that
- I grew up in the 1960s in small house that fit a family of seven just fine in those days. There was no such thing as not sharing a bedroom with another sibling, or
- having my own pair of underwear. I tended not to mind too much except I am a boy and I only has sisters.
- they're cute and everything, no, not in a gross "I'm taking them to the prom" kind of way....but boys underwear is really important, don't you think?
- Indeed boys underwear wear was my special memorabilia. I collected them. They gave me good luck, and on day hopefully, I thought I could pawn them and make a fortune
- that would one day help me start up my own underwear for cats business. What could be better? Cats! Underwear!
- I can't sew, so I bought the smallest sizes from Agent Provocateur and cut a hole in the pants for a tail. I put bras into Phase 2 of my business plan. Cats are fussy shoppers so
- we painted the shopping carts with liquid catnip. All I can say is woah.
- Whoa Whoa Wo-oooah. What's new pussycat? Whoa Whoa Who-oooah! I'll soon be kissing your sweet pussy cat lips. Pussycat, Pussycat, I love you. Yes I do-oooo. The shopping cart was
- All hell broke loose.
- Looser than a Thrift Store turtleneck. Which someone would have probably bought, had all hell not broken loose. See the irony? Yeah. Neither did I.
- Started
- 2012-08-27 09:35:32
- Finished
- 2014-11-19 18:43:09
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